


Honor & Desire

by G33kDiva, palominopup



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe - Hospital Setting, Alternate Universe - Military, Gay Sex, M/M, Mild Angst
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-11
Updated: 2017-11-22
Packaged: 2018-12-26 14:46:41
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 12
Words: 78,827
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12061161
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/G33kDiva/pseuds/G33kDiva, https://archiveofourown.org/users/palominopup/pseuds/palominopup
Summary: Five years. That's how long it's been since Dean Winchester left behind the desert battlefield and the Air Force Captain who enthralled him, Castiel Novak. Their paths crossed when Dean's Ranger unit was tasked with rescuing him from the enemy. After saving Novak's life, Dean's assignment ended and he went home. That was the last and only time they saw each other... but no matter how much time passed, Dean couldn't get Novak and his stupid blue eyes out of his head. Despite firmly placing Novak in the 'missed connections of the past' category, the man's face invaded his dreams and just wouldn't go away.Dean buried himself in his work as an ER doctor at San Antonio Memorial Hospital. His life wasn't exactly happy, but it worked. Until the night he showed up for his shift and locked eyes with the newest trauma doctor...the man who haunted his dreams.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> The first scene has a mild non-con vibe. There is military type violence, but it will be short and sweet. We have a glossary of military terms and acronyms at the end of this chapter, but don't be afraid to ask questions.
> 
> Amanda and I hope you enjoy this one.

**Prologue**

**2012**  

 **Bagram Airfield, Afghanistan**  

The plan was simple. Enter the encampment, grab the target, book it to the rendezvous point. Easy.

“So, let me get this straight… we swoop into a known hot zone and snatch the fly-boy that got himself kidnapped… all without creating an international incident.”

“Captain, you are not _swooping_ anywhere. You are going for medical support only. You may be a Ranger, but for this mission, you will be operating as the Medic,” Major Shaw said, the CO's tone telling Captain Dean Winchester that his orders were not to be disobeyed.

The briefing over, Dean took the file and headed for his tent. The dry heat of the desert was killing him and all he wanted was another cold shower. The First Sergeant was waiting for him outside. “We leave at 2300 hours, sir.” Dean nodded at the departure time, knowing the cover of darkness would aid in the mission. He waved his acknowledgement to the enlisted man and stepped inside his tent. He sat on the cot that served as his temporary bed for the last three nights. Merely a week ago, he was in his house in San Antonio. Thoughts of the large hospital where he worked came to mind and he smiled before opening the file again.

Captain Castiel Novak, an Air Force Reservist, was captured just outside of Charikar. In his civilian life, he was a doctor from Massachusetts General Hospital in Boston. The intel they received informed them that he was taken forty-eight hours prior due to his medical training. Someone with a lot of power must be either sick or injured badly enough to risk the backlash of taking an American military doctor. Whatever the case, the clock was ticking for the officer.

Dean closed the file and gathered what he needed for his shower. He walked across the base camp to the latrine and shower stalls. The cool water would feel good on his overheated skin. Back home, he reveled in long, hot showers that nearly burned his skin. Here, it was just the opposite... he couldn't stand it when the water was anything other than ice-cold. As he washed away the sand and sweat, he gathered his thoughts for the impending mission.

That night, he hoisted himself into one of the Humvees and glanced around. Four enlisted men dressed in ACUs and IOTVs, sat in silence as the vehicle started. Dean took inventory of the gear in his medical bag, once again going over his mental checklist to make sure he had everything potentially required for a battlefield emergency.

A couple of hours later, they slowed to a stop near an outcropping of rocks, the other two Humvees stopping in a line behind them. This was the point where the mission was expected to get more complicated. The NCOIC led the way across the barren terrain. They were four clicks away from the camp and within the first fifteen minutes, Dean’s eyes were burning with sweat running down from his forehead and his feet throbbed from the effort of rolling his steps on the rocky ground so it didn't make any noise. His helmet felt like it weighed twenty pounds, but it helped him stay grounded and focused as they made their way toward their target.

The Sergeant running point held up his fist and everyone stopped. Dean’s heart began to beat faster. This was it. He made sure his weapon was locked and loaded, his finger hovering over the safety switch. Low-crawling on their stomachs, they crested a small rise and got their first look into the camp. About a dozen dirty canvas tents were arranged in a haphazard circle. Temporary flood lights, powered by a generator, lit the area. Dean narrowed his eyes as jeering from below reached his ears. Their plan hinged on the expectation that the insurgents would be asleep. This complicated things.

A dark-haired man, obviously American by his uniform, was dragged out of one of the tents. His hands were bound behind his back and he was roughly forced to his knees. Dean made eye contact with the NCOIC and he responded with a swift shake of the head. Were they about to execute the captured American? Dean turned his sharp eyes back to the scene. 

A rough-looking guerilla stepped forward and tugged up the man’s head by his hair and said something that had the other men laughing. Dean felt bile rise in his throat when the ringleader began fumbling with his pants. Before he could think about what he was doing, Dean laid down his gun and stood up. He heard hissing from his left and knew his fellow soldiers were going to be pissed. He only hoped they would have his back. He felt one of them grab his arm, but he shook it off.

Because they were focused on the show, the men didn’t see Dean until he was right at the edge of the camp. The leader had his cock out and was stroking it. The other hand still had a strong grip on the struggling American’s hair.

“Hey, guess I’m late to the party,” Dean yelled out and the laughing and catcalls stopped abruptly. All eyes turned his way and about a dozen automatic rifles pointed at him. The leader, his attention diverted from his prisoner to Dean, lifted his chin in challenge. Dean strolled closer, his hands in the air. “I heard you guys had some vestal virgins… wanna share?”

“Who the hell are you?” The voice was gruff and heavily accented. Dean shrugged.

“Just a soldier out for some fun.” Dean let his eyes drift to the prisoner. He saw the Captain’s bars on the collar of the uniform. Could this be Novak?

A short burst of commands in Pashto had several men moving toward him. Dean closed his hand into a fist and smiled as the laser sight came into view on the leader’s chest. Dean held up three fingers, then two, and then dove for the captured man, shoving him to the ground and shielding him with his body. Gunfire erupted around them and seconds later, an unnatural silence blanketed them. Dean lifted his head to look around at the bodies. The US Soldiers were running down the embankment toward them. Dean looked at his charge and smirked. “I think my guys are gonna be pissed at me.”

“You are either incredibly brave or completely insane,” the other American said, his voice like aged whiskey and expensive cigars. Dean finally took a good look at the man lying under him. Even filthy and unshaved, he was sexy as hell with piercing blue eyes that stared back at him without blinking.

“Definitely the latter,” Dean said cheekily and the man smiled up at him.

“Captain Winchester, I should wring your goddamn neck. What the fuck were you thinking?” The NCOIC's voice was close and angry.

"See, what did I tell you," Dean whispered to the man below him before pushing himself into a crouch and bouncing to his feet. “Captain Novak didn’t look interested in blowing that motherfucker. I was just making sure he didn’t have to.” He reached down and helped Novak to his feet. The officer nodded his thanks without breaking eye contact. Dean should have found it unnerving to be scrutinized by this strange guy, but for some reason, it wasn't uncomfortable.

The small Ranger unit, along with Dean and the rescued Captain Novak, rapidly hoofed it to the parked Humvees and headed back to base. The enlisted men shut Dean out. He knew showboating and stepping out of line could get men killed, but he couldn't just stand by and let something like that happen.

The next morning, Dean stood stone-faced before the CO and hid his reactions as he was dressed down. Apparently, Novak had some pull because instead of an Article 15, he only got a slap on the wrist. When he was dismissed, he strode through the camp to the tent that housed Novak. Until transport arrived to take him back to his own squadron, Novak was stuck with this ragtag Army unit.

He called out Novak's name and was invited to enter. Freshly shaved and clean, the man went from freakin' hot to fuckin' gorgeous. He was wearing the same ACU pants and tan uniform t-shirt that all Soldiers wore, but on him, it looked _very_ different. Dean couldn't imagine anyone else looking this good in uniform. His chest muscles were outlined under the tight-fitting material and the sleeves stopped just above the bulge of his biceps. Dean felt his mouth go dry. "Captain Winchester. I hope your debriefing went well."

"Just peachy," Dean snorted, once again finding himself the subject of Novak's unwavering gaze. "So, you got everything you need here? It's not the Ritz, but we've got decent showers." Captain Novak raised an eyebrow in disbelief. "Okay, fine, they suck ass. But at least there's water and soap."

The two men laughed and then fell silent as the air shifted between them.

"Captain Winchester, I know you took a huge risk doing what you did... but the fact is, I wouldn't be here if you didn't. I just... _thank you_." Novak was looking at him with so much naked sincerity, Dean wasn't quite sure how to respond. He went with his typical response of using humor to deflect.

"Anything for our fly-boys. I aim to please," Dean smirked. He meant to be a smart-ass, but he was floored by Novak's reply.

"Yes, I'm sure you do." His voice was gravelly and his deep, blue eyes darkened and were practically _smoldering,_ making it apparent that Dean wasn't alone in his attraction. Dean's breath caught and he felt a blush climbing up his face. He cleared his throat before speaking.

"Uh... yeah, well... I've um... I have to go... polish my tent now." With those intelligent words, Dean stepped back toward the entrance feeling off-balance and _turned the fuck on_. It wasn't _his_ fault... the guy's voice was downright sinful and his eyes were so intense, Dean was tempted to strip naked and throw down right then and there.

"Just a minute, Captain Winchester." Dean froze on the spot. Novak moved closer to him and extended his hand. Dean took it in his own and felt a charge of electricity shoot through him. "I hope our paths cross again."

Dean's mind was racing with the possibilities. All he could do was stare into those eyes. He licked his lips and Novak's eyes tracked the movement, his grip tightening in response. "I hope so, too," Dean whispered. The air was thick between them, their faces only inches apart. All Dean had to do was lean in just a little and...

"Captain Novak, your transport has arrived," someone shouted, breaking the tension. They sprang apart and Dean nodded once, then exited the tent.

As he turned the corner, he kept walking until he got to the mess hall, but he didn't go inside. He leaned against the wall and watched as Novak made his way to the Humvee that would take him away. Dean felt a surge of longing in his chest as the door closed on the mop of unruly hair. He stayed there until the vehicle disappeared in a cloud of dust, and he couldn't help thinking that his chance with Novak had done the same.

**Chapter 1**

**2017 – Present Day**  

 **San Antonio, Texas**  

“Okay, Princess, this is going to hurt some, but when I’m done, you’ll have an awesome story to tell your friends,” Dean spoke softly to the little girl as he prepared to stitch up the laceration on her calf. She whimpered as the needle entered her skin, but didn’t move. She was a brave little thing. The jagged metal she ran into had given her a nasty gash. Her mother was holding it together, but Dean could see she was close to her breaking point. To redirect her attention, Dean turned on the charm until the haunted look left her pretty brown eyes.

Later, as he pulled off his gloves, Dean headed for the break room. Benny, the ER’s night shift charge nurse, was staring at his phone. From the sounds, Dean figured he was playing some sort of video game. “What’s the word?”

“Got the scoop on the new doc,” Benny said without looking up.

“So, spill.” Any change in the dynamics of the night shift team made him feel cautious. As the chief resident, Dean liked to keep his work family close and he was protective whenever anything or anyone threatened to upset the balance.

“An Air Force Reserve doc.” Dean nodded, impressed so far. “Out of somewhere up north... Boston maybe?”

When no more information was forthcoming, Dean prompted, “Got a name?”

“Some weird first name. Last name is Novak… I think.” Dean stopped breathing for a few seconds. No, it was just a coincidence. It had to be a coincidence. But... the Captain Novak he knew was in the Air Force Reserve and was from Boston. The last name only served as further evidence that this was the same guy.

"Uh... when's he supposed to start?" Dean asked, keeping his voice nonchalant.

"Next week, according to the schedule." Dean got a Coke out of the fridge and gulped it down. Nope, it couldn't be _his_ Novak.

Without drawing attention to himself, Dean made his way to the nurse's station before he left for the day and casually asked Benny to see the schedule for next week. He used the cover story that he was thinking about taking a day off and needed someone to fill in for him. It seemed legit. He pulled up the spreadsheet and there, typed in bold, was the name Castiel Novak. _Fuck_.

Jo Harvelle, one of the interns, picked that moment to come up to him and rest her hand on his forearm. "Hey, I was thinking about going out to breakfast. Want to join me?" Dean smiled distractedly. Jo was great, but he didn't date people he worked with and he knew that's what she wanted. Objectively, she was attractive, but he just wasn't attracted _to_ her.

"Sorry, I'm pretty beat," Dean said, backing away from her, his smile frozen in place. She didn't look happy, but that's the way it had to be. Besides, he was still reeling from the knowledge that the man he rescued and never stopped wanting, was coming to _his_ hospital. This was _his_ family. What if Novak said something? What if everyone found out that Dean was into dick? He couldn't be that guy. Something like that could get back to his dad and he'd be screwed. The _illustrious_ John Winchester, Chief of Surgery at Johns Hopkins and one of the leading cardiothoracic surgeons in the nation, would not handle that kind of news very well. Dean had already disappointed his father by going into the military and emergency medicine instead of surgery. He couldn't even imagine what would happen if he disgraced the family by coming out as bi. His dad would lose his shit and be on the first plane to San Antonio to 'get his son in line' immediately.

Dean got behind the wheel of his beloved '67 Impala and cranked the engine. He sat for a few minutes staring up at the hospital that had become his home over the last eight years. This is where he did his internship and made lifelong friends that became his family. Dean loved this place so much, he even convinced his brother, Sam, to move here for his surgical residency. Thinking of Sam, he took his phone out and called him. Maybe he would catch him before his first surgery of the day.

"Hey. How was your shift?"

"Nothing exciting," Dean replied. "What do you have on deck today?"

"A twelve-year-old will be getting a shiny new kidney this morning." Dean grinned. Sam was a pediatric surgeon and Dean was so proud of him. With two parents that were more interested in their careers than their sons, Dean had been the one to make sure Sam ate healthy foods and got his homework done. It was a lot of responsibility to take on as a kid, but Dean never once considered not doing it. He loved his brother and gladly shouldered the job of parenting if it meant Sammy was taken care of.

"Awesome. Want to grab a beer later?" Dean was off tonight and lately, he hadn't been able to spend much time with his brother.

"Can't tonight. Eileen's mom is in town to discuss the wedding, so I'm stuck."

"Sucks to be you, man." If truth be told, Dean was a little envious. Sam and Eileen met and fell head over heels in record time. They were getting married in two months and Dean couldn't be happier for them. But sometimes he wished he could have that same kind of domestic bliss... especially when his shift was over and he was heading home to an empty house. "Eileen's cracking the whip already and you haven't even made it down the aisle yet."

"Bite me, Jerk."

"You wish, Bitch."

After hanging up, Dean drove across town to his house and parked. With a muffled yawn, he let himself in and stripped off his scrubs as he made his way to his bedroom. The blackout curtains were already drawn and he took a quick shower to wash off the smell of the ER before crawling into bed.

It was already late afternoon when Dean woke. He sighed and stretched. Since Sam couldn't hang out, he figured he could hit a bar and maybe find someone to blow off some steam with. He still had several hours to kill before the drinking crowd turned out in full swing. Maybe he could do some laundry and housekeeping to pass the time.

He kicked off the covers and was ready to swing his legs over the edge of the bed, but his half-hard dick stopped him. A quick jerk-off session would make things better if he found somebody tonight. It would make him a little less desperate to get his rocks off.

He lifted his ass enough to slide his boxer briefs off and tossed them to the floor. While he stroked his cock lightly with his left hand, his right was digging into the nightstand drawer for his lube. Once he found it, he used his thumb to snap the cap open and stopped his movements long enough to slick up his fingers. He wrapped them around his hard length and moved up and down a few times to get it wet. Closing his eyes, he let his mind wander to his usual spank bank material. He zeroed in on an actress from his favorite show. He imagined her mouth on him... then she was riding him... Suddenly, piercing blue eyes stared back at him from a dirt and sweat streaked face. He groaned and tightened his hold, thrusting his hips up to fuck into his fist. The sights and smells of an arid tent filled his mind. The connection had been there...

Dean grunted and his body stiffened as his orgasm hit. Cum lay in creamy streaks across his belly and chest. His eyes drifted to his dresser where a pair of dog tags hung on the mirror. He still drilled with his unit... one weekend a month and two weeks during the summer. More if his country needed him. But that time... that one time never really left his mind.

Captain Novak had been a distraction... a brief encounter in a dark place... a fantasy. Dean didn't need to read anything more into it. Plenty of soldiers found someone in times of war, but those feelings went away when they got back on their own soil. Just because images of the man turned up during his sexual activities didn't mean Dean was harboring any illusions or romanticizing what they had... or could have had.

With a huff at his stupid thoughts, Dean rolled off the bed and headed for the shower. By the time he was done, the idea of going out didn't seem interesting anymore. He pulled his gym bag from the closet and checked to make sure his gear was inside before dressing in his Army PT uniform. It was great for working out and he ended up wearing it more as a civilian than he did on duty.

The gym was busy for a weeknight and Dean hurried to the locker room to drop off his bag. He needed to loosen up with the heavy bag before sparring. As a mixed martial arts fighter, Dean was a regular at the gym and didn't usually have a problem finding someone to go into the cage with him... but the volunteers weren't exactly rushing forward lately. He wasn't considered an overly-aggressive fighter, but sometimes his pent-up frustrations bled into his technique and left his opponents a little more bruised than necessary... which is exactly what happened during his last bout. Still, he enjoyed the sport and the way it brought veterans together. On a day like today, Dean felt like he _needed_ the fight. He decided it was best for everyone if he stayed out of the ring... at least until he could get a handle on things. As his first punch sent the heavy bag reeling, Dean decided to ignore the creeping sense of dread he had about his next shift.

 

**Boston, Massachusetts**

"I still don't understand why you would leave such a prestigious position to go to _Texas_ ," his mother said, saying the state's name like it was gum under her Manolo Blahnik heels. She leaned forward to brush imaginary dust off of Castiel's shoulders before lightly caressing his cheek. Before he could reply, she tsked and sighed, "It's your father, isn't it? Darling, I know he's...well, he's the General, but it's not like you have to see him every day."

"Mother, you know he disapproves of my..." Castiel hated these talks with his mother. As a Democratic Senator, he knew her views were similar to his, but living with Castiel's very conservative and extremely disciplined father for over forty years had caused her to become indifferent to her son's needs. He knew she cared about him, but she did very little to show it unless it benefitted her in some way.

"Castiel, he _has_ tried, but you know how he is." Castiel did know... his definition of trying was not the same as Brigadier General Zachariah Novak's. From the time he could walk, Castiel was pressed toward a life in the military. Instead of a normal high school, he attended a military boarding school and was later accepted into the Air Force Academy. His decision to go to Boston College instead wasn't the first blow to their strained relationship, but at the time it was the worst. It wasn't until he finished medical school that the biggest hit came. His father walked in on him and his lover...his male lover...in his small rented apartment near the campus. Disgust and hatred were all he saw in his father's eyes and it left him feeling like he was less than nothing.

In an effort to earn his father's forgiveness and approval, Castiel was commissioned into the Air Force a few short weeks later. He served his four years with honor, but hated the rigid structure of the military. He once again disappointed his father when he left active duty and went to Reserve status. He took a civilian job at Massachusetts General and loved being an ER doctor... but his father's presence, even in a city the size of Boston, prevented him from living his life the way he wanted to and made finding someone to share it with practically impossible.

"Mother, please..." Castiel bowed his head. He would miss her, but he had to do this for the sake of his own sanity and to prove to himself that he had at least some semblance of bravery. _Bravery_. That word always made him think of the ridiculously attractive Captain that saved his life. Where was he now? Was he still serving? It had been five years, yet Castiel thought of him often... the way his green eyes lit up with mischief as he laid across Castiel's body... the way he stammered and blushed when Castiel made it clear he was attracted to him... the _palpable_ sexual tension. They barely touched each other, but Castiel had never felt that kind of chemistry with anyone before or since. If he wasn't afraid of looking like a stalker, he would have looked the guy up ages ago. Instead, he relegated Captain Green Eyes to his sexual fantasy files and left it at that.

"Castiel, are you listening to me?" His mother interrupted his reminiscing, bringing him back to the present. He made an apologetic face and she repeated her question. "I said, when do you want to tell your father? I know you don't get along, but I don't think it's fair for you to ask me to tell him when it's your decision to leave."

"I was going to write him a letter..." He trailed off when he saw the look of disapproval on her face. Heaving a sigh, Castiel agreed to come over for dinner and tell him face to face. There was nothing about that plan that he liked, but his mother was right... he had to be the one to tell his father.

All things considered, it went surprisingly well... meaning Castiel left with all his limbs intact. Everything else was horrible. His father ranted and raved for nearly an hour and refused to allow Castiel to speak. He just stood to attention in the middle of the room like he was being reprimanded by his Commanding Officer instead of his father. Oddly enough, he found the familiarity of it comforting... which he was fairly certain would be enough to make a therapist a millionaire if he ever decided to go to one. By the time the German cuckoo clock struck nine o'clock, Castiel had reached his breaking point. He stood at ease and turned to face his father head-on.

" _Enough_. I have had enough, father. I'm done playing the good little soldier and I'm tired of allowing you to dictate every aspect of my life. You think if you scream and yell at me long enough it will change who I am? It won't. I am as God made me. Don't expect me to apologize for that any more than I expect you to apologize for being a top-notch, judgmental asshole." His father sputtered and turned red in the face until Castiel began to worry about his blood pressure. It didn't take long for him to regain his composure and go on the attack.

"You ungrateful, rebellious little shit. I _made_ you. Every success you've ever had is because of me."

"No, father. I have succeeded in _spite_ of you." With that, Castiel turned on his heel and left the room, his father struck silent by his words. He kept walking until he found his mother in the kitchen, then hugged her goodbye and exited his parents' home for the last time. He had no intention of returning to this place, despite his love for his mother. He could always call her private number if he ever needed to, but he felt the need to put everything about this house behind him.

The next week was filled with packing and the chaos of relocating. San Antonio Memorial was a good hospital that not only treated the general population of the large city, but military veterans as well. It was also one of the leading trauma centers in Texas. Castiel was looking forward to the job, but not the move. He flew down the previous week and found a small apartment that would suffice as a temporary home until he had the time to find a house. All he had to do now was load his life into boxes and ship them halfway across the country.

When all was said and done, he put over two thousand miles on his beautifully restored '62 Corvette and arrived two days before the moving van. Staring at the empty apartment, Castiel decided to get a hotel room until his things arrived. His first shift was scheduled for Friday. It seemed fast, but since his time in the Air Force, he preferred to hit the ground running. Weekends were always busy in the ER and though he wouldn't wish illness or injury on anyone, he'd be lying if he said he didn't welcome the distraction.

He completed the interview process with Fergus Crowley, the hospital administrator, well over a month ago, but he still needed to stop by the main office before his first shift to sign the paperwork. He pushed through the front doors of San Antonio Memorial and smiled. He was getting a fresh start here... without his father breathing down his neck and controlling his life. He could be the kind of person he truly wanted to be. He had the freedom to help others the way he always wanted, make friends based on connection instead of strategy, and most importantly, date and love anyone he damn well pleased. He would never have to hide who he was again.

The paperwork seemed endless and when he was finally an official employee of the hospital, Crowley led him downstairs and into the ER. He was scheduled for the night shift, so at this point in the day, the doctors and nurses he met wouldn't be on his rotation. Still, he found it helpful to at least get a feel for the busy department.

The moving truck arrived and Castiel spent all of his time unpacking and organizing his apartment. It was mindless work and helped relieve some of the anxious energy he was feeling. He still needed to fill the space with more furniture, but he had a bed to sleep on and food in the kitchen, which was all he needed. Before he knew it, it was Friday. Castiel donned his scrubs and new ID badge, draped his stethoscope around his neck, and filled his travel mug with strong coffee. He locked up his apartment and drove toward the hospital with the top down and the wind sweeping through his hair, ready to begin this new chapter in his life.

He stepped through the employee entrance and into mayhem. An ambulance was backed up to the doors and two paramedics were pushing a gurney inside as several staff members moved into action. "GSW, left lower quadrant..." They called out vitals as the victim, a young man, screamed and sobbed.

A large man sporting a rough beard came up to him. He lifted Castiel's badge and took his time reading it before meeting Castiel's eyes. "Dr. Novak, welcome to the night shift. I'm Benny Lafitte, the charge nurse. Stay in my good graces and we'll get along just fine," he said in a thick Cajun accent. His smile was warm and teasing, his eyes twinkling with humor and more than a little bit of mischief.

"It's nice to meet you, Benny. Where would you like me to start?" Castiel noted the look of surprise on Benny's face and figured he probably wasn't used to doctors asking nurses for direction. Well Castiel wasn't like most doctors. He believed nurses deserved the utmost respect and received the least of it. He always made sure every nurse he worked with was assured of his respect for them and knew their value.

"I have a broken finger in Two." The nurse pointed and slapped a clipboard into Castiel's hand. He smiled in gratitude and eagerly headed for his first patient of the day. As he finished up, a cheerful nurse with blonde hair entered and extended her hand as she introduced herself.

"Hey there, doc. I'm Donna and I'm supposed to stick with you and show you the ropes today. Anything you need, just holler for me, okay?" Before he could answer, she swept out of the room in a flash. Castiel shook his head and wondered exactly how much coffee Donna had consumed.

A couple of hours went by before Castiel got the chance to meet anyone other than Donna. When the patient flow finally slowed down, she took him to see the locker room then ushered him into the breakroom. He glanced around then took a mug from the rack and started filling it with coffee. Donna's eyes widened. "Oh, you can't use that one."

Castiel looked at the side of the coffee cup. It read _Flirty, Nerdy, and a Little Dirty_. "I'm sorry. Is it yours?" 

"No, that's Dean's. He's the chief resident, and if you use his cup, he'll give you all the gross cases for a week. Last time it happened, Jo had to remove a flashlight from a homeless man's rectum. It was awful," she said dramatically.

Castiel was amused by the threat, but emptied the coffee into a disposable cup, making a mental note to bring one of his own tomorrow. He was preparing to rinse it out when the door burst open and three people entered, all talking loudly. "I'm telling you, that dude had gangrene."

"How the hell do you get gangrene on your junk? That's my favorite body part... I'd never neglect it enough for it to rot," Benny said to the man behind him, a bouncy redhead preceding them.

"So, did you have to remove the man's... you know," asked the redhead squeamishly.

"Yep. And get this... it all started from a freakin' paper cut. Dude was jerking off _into_ a girly mag." The rich baritone and the deep laughter stirred something in Castiel's memory just as the man stepped around Benny. Castiel gasped audibly and dropped the mug to the floor, shattering it into pieces. The room was so quiet, you could have heard a pen drop. _He hadn't changed_. Maybe a few more lines around his eyes... but he was still the same beautiful man that came to Castiel's rescue. His savior.

"Oh, crap," came Donna's whispered voice beside him. Castiel wasn't paying attention to her. He might as well have been alone in the room. Alone with the man he wanted so long ago... and still wanted. Winchester was staring at him, green eyes wide and mouth agape. "Now Dean, don't get bent outta shape. It was an accident," Donna said, bending to pick up the bigger pieces.

"It's just a mug... don't sweat it," Winchester.... no, Dean... his name was Dean... said softly. Benny, Donna, and the redhead all stared at Dean like he was possessed. He stepped forward. "Novak. Welcome to S.A.M." Dean _remembered_ him...remembered his name.

Still in a state of shock, Castiel ignored the outstretched hand and focused on those riveting green eyes. "Uh... You know it's customary to shake hands here in Texas," Dean whispered, a small smile touching his lips. Castiel felt the heat on his face. He knew he was blushing. They shook hands once before and he often fantasized about the feeling of Dean's warm, rough skin... It occurred to him that he was possibly coming across as a social reject, so he pulled himself together.

"Yes, I... I'm sorry." Castiel took Dean's hand and broke the hold quickly since the situation was already uncomfortable enough without adding in his arousal. He moved back and winced as he heard the crunch of the ceramic shards under his shoes. Castiel became aware of the other three people in the room and broke eye contact with Dean. "It is good to see you again, Captain."

"Dean. It's Dean here," Dean corrected and Castiel could almost see the mask fall over his face. He turned to his friends. "I helped Novak out of a scrape in Afghanistan a few years back. Yeah, so... welcome aboard," Dean said off-handedly and disappeared through the door. Three sets of eyes turned to him.

"You broke his mug and he said _don't sweat it_ ," the redhead said softly, almost in awe. "Oh, I'm Charlie, by the way." She smiled and shoved Benny aside to get to the coffee. Benny shook his head and kicked one of the shards closer to where Donna was trying to get the mess cleaned up. She gave him an annoyed look, but his attention on Castiel left him oblivious to her reaction.

"So, you served with Dean?" Benny asked, expression curious.

"No, not really. We were in Afghanistan together, but I was working as a medical officer for an Air Force detachment. Captain... Dean was Army. Our paths only crossed once."

"That's pretty cool. Victor is a vet, too," Donna said, dumping the broken pieces into the trashcan.

"I look forward to meeting him," Castiel replied. He was still in shock from seeing Dean again after all these years. They were actually going to work together. That moment in his tent... the attraction between them felt so intense. Did he imagine the whole thing? No... the heat in Dean's eyes was very real and the way he reacted to seeing Castiel again led him to believe that Dean was still attracted to him. Castiel didn't know what to do with that... but he knew he wouldn't be able to ignore it.

Once the mess was cleaned up, Donna patted him on the shoulder and left the room with Benny. Coffee in hand, Charlie turned around and leaned against the counter, making an effort to appear casual. "So, Novak... you remembered each other after you crossed paths only once? You guys must have _awesome memories_." Castiel didn't miss the double meaning and he fidgeted under her gaze. Her eyes sharpened at his behavior and she stepped closer, giving him a pointed look. "For the record, Dean is _straight_."

Castiel raised an eyebrow in disbelief before he caught on to what she was hinting at. Dean was definitely _not_ straight, but as far as anyone at work was concerned, he definitely _was_. The disappointment hit Castiel like a punch in the gut. Dean was in the closet. Castiel uprooted his entire life so he could feel free to be himself... gave up everything he had for the chance to date whoever he wanted. Only to discover that the one person he wanted more than anyone wasn't an option.

"Incoming," someone shouted through the door, cutting into Castiel's thoughts. There was no more time to think about Dean Winchester the rest of the night. Throughout his shift, he saw the handsome doctor a few times... but as chief resident, Dean stayed pretty busy. Castiel thought it was probably for the best. He couldn't... no, he _wouldn't_ go back to hiding and sneaking around with his lovers. He was proud of who he was and anyone that expected him to be some dirty secret wasn't worth his time. It was a perfectly logical view of the situation... if only those damn green eyes and that breathtaking smile didn't keep flashing through his mind.

 

Dean was antsy as he pulled into the staff parking lot for Friday's shift. Novak was starting tonight, and he still wasn't sure how he was going to handle it. Was it better to be brave and go right up to the guy or make himself scarce until the morning? He had the advantage of knowing in advance that Novak would be there... but it was starting to make Dean think that it wasn't an advantage at all. Shaking off his tension, he eased his huge car into a slot and shut of the powerful motor. He got out and saw the pristine classic 'Vette in the slot next to his. She was cherry, but not as fine as his baby. He laid an affectionate hand on his car's roof before walking away. He didn't even notice the Massachusetts plates.

He opted for Plan B... avoid Novak at all costs. He was very much aware of the man and caught sight of the unruly head of hair several times over the course of the shift. Donna had been tasked with showing Novak the ropes his first night, and Dean was confident that she would take care of everything the man needed. There was no need for the chief resident to step in, not even to introduce himself... not that Novak would need an introduction. Or... _what if he didn't even remember Dean?_ The possibility of that was enough to send him into another tailspin.

An hour into the shift, Dean felt like he was on active duty again and hiding from the enemy. He ducked behind people, curtains, and machinery to avoid being seen. He felt ridiculous, but thankfully no one seemed to notice. He was on his way up to surgery to check on his recent accident victim when he overheard two nurses whispering about how _yummy_ the new ER doctor was. It sent a wave of jealousy through him, which pissed him off. Dean couldn't allow himself to feel _anything_ for Novak... not jealousy, not lust, and sure as fuck not anything more than that. No matter how hot the guy was...

As was typically the case on a weekend night, the ER was insanely busy. Dean finally caught a break halfway into the shift and gathered Benny and Charlie to grab some coffee. Charlie was the hospital's in-house IT queen and his best friend... the only one who knew his secret. Dean was regaling them with tales about his last patient, a morbidly obese man with gangrene of the penis. Then Benny moved his hulking frame out of the way and there stood the man he'd been hiding from all night... looking sexier than anyone had a right to in scrubs.

If anyone asked, Dean couldn't say what transpired in those first few seconds. He didn't even hear his favorite coffee cup shatter on the floor. He was pulled from the depths of those gorgeous blue eyes by Benny's slight nudge and Donna's panicked response about the damn mug.

"It's just a mug... don't sweat it," Dean said quietly. He took a few steps closer and held out his hand. "Novak. Welcome to S.A.M." That's when things went from awkward to bizarre. Novak didn't respond to his greeting, he just continued to gaze into Dean's eyes. Dean shook himself after a few seconds and whispered, "Uh... You know it's customary to shake hands here in Texas." Novak's blush was just fuckin' adorab— _No. Stop right there._

The man apologized and gave him what must have been the fastest handshake in the west. Novak moved away from him, stepping all over the pieces of Dean's mug. Dean was very conscious of his three friends looking at him with mouths gaping like the goldfish in the tank up in peds. "It is good to see you again, Captain." So, he _did_ remember him...

"Dean. It's Dean here." No, he couldn't do this right now. He spun around and focused on Benny. "I helped Novak out of a scrape in Afghanistan a few years back." He edged toward the exit as he spoke. Benny was giving him the _what the fuck is wrong with you_ look. How was he going to explain this?

"Yeah, so... welcome aboard," Dean tossed over his shoulder and didn't let the door hit his ass on the way out. He made it to the men's room near the elevators and thanked all that was holy there was no one inside. He went into a stall and leaned his forehead against the cool metal wall. He needed to get a grip. He was a _Ranger_ for fuck's sake. If he could just make it through this shift, he could go home and regroup.

With the arrival of the next ambulance, Dean saw the sun rising through the glass double doors. He was almost home-free. Jo was working on a patient with him, a forty-something who tried to slit her wrists. These were the cases that ate away at Dean. "We stabilized her in the rig," the paramedic said, reading off vitals. "She didn't cut deep enough to do major damage." 

Dean did his own exam and nodded to Jo. "Let's get her stitched up and get someone from psych down here." Benny set a suture kit on the cart beside Dean and he began the task of putting her skin back together. At the desk twenty minutes later, Dean rubbed his neck. He was ready for a hot shower and his memory foam. Warm hands began massaging his shoulders and neck. He sighed and turned his head slightly. Jo stood behind him, smiling.

"You look exhausted." Dean didn't have the heart or the energy to tell her to stop what she was doing. When he raised his eyes, he was met with a darkened, stony gaze from the blue eyes at the triage desk. He shifted forward and broke Jo's grip on his upper arms.

"Thanks, Jo," Dean mumbled as his hip hit the counter. "Time to blow this popsicle stand," he said flippantly and detoured around her. He made it to the locker room without meeting anyone else. He quickly grabbed his wallet and keys, but Jo blocked the exit.

"Dean, can I..." She was interrupted by Benny, Novak, and Victor entering. Dean's anxiety at having to go through another attempted date request from Jo eased until he caught Novak's stare.

"Jo, let's grab some breakfast," he said, a tad louder than usual. Jo's face lit up. Benny frowned at him and Dean felt a stab of guilt, knowing how Benny felt about her. Victor was too focused on opening his locker to pay attention. And Novak... Dean couldn't even begin to gauge his expression. The only word he could come up with to describe it was _hard_... almost like he could smite Dean regardless of the witnesses present. There was a voice yelling in his head that this was a very bad idea. Jo liked him...romantically. And he didn't like her that way _at all_. Dean thought there was no way this was going to end well.

He was right. Dean got behind the wheel after the dismal failure of breakfast and closed his eyes. Dean tried to keep it friendly, but on their way out of the diner, Jo stood on her tiptoes, wrapped her arms around his neck, and planted her lips on him. Shock kept him from moving out of her grasp for a few seconds, but once his brain caught up, he took her wrists and unwound them. "Jo... don't."

"Why not? Why can't you just let go, Dean? I'm not asking for a ring here. Just me and you... trying things out." Dean worried his lower lip as he tried to find the right words. He didn't want to hurt her and he sure as hell didn't want her to find out his secret.

"Jo, come on... we work together. You don't shit where you eat."

She laughed, a soft sound that Dean loved, but platonically. Jo was undeniably attractive, but he'd known her long enough to be certain that he could never think of her as anything other than the little sister he never asked for. She moved even closer and pressed her small breasts against him. "Dean, we're two consenting adults." Her hands drifted to his waist and trailed to his ass. Once again, he pulled out of her grasp.

"No," he stated firmly.

"What? Are you gay or something?" Her tone was teasing and he knew she didn't mean it in a derogatory way. Jo was as liberal as it gets. After all, she and Charlie were really close and Charlie was _definitely_ not straight. Dean tried to school his expression, but her smile faded. "Oh... God... you _are_. I'm so sorry." She backed away hastily.

"I'm not gay, Jo. I'm not..." _Christ_. Dean noticed her incredulous look and ran frustrated fingers through his short brown hair. "Okay, look... I'm bi. But please..." he begged. " _Please_ don't tell anyone." Her eyes softened and she glanced down at her hands. Dean realized he was still holding onto her slender arms. He released her and she pushed him back against the car then settled next to him.

"You aren't out."

"No, I'm not. I can't be," he said softly, not looking at her.

"Is it the Army? Because I thought that shit was done with. Gay couples can legally get married now. It's not a big deal anymore."

"Really, Jo? _In Texas_? You don't understand...  _I can't_. Can we just leave it at that?" Dean's eyes were still fixed on the busy San Antonio traffic and not her.

"Sure, Dean." They stayed side by side, each in their own thoughts for a full minute before she spoke again. "Can I ask you a question?" Dean blew out a breath and nodded. "You're bi, not gay... so why not me? I think I should still have a fifty-fifty shot." Her earnest expression contrasted with her teasing tone and Dean couldn't help laughing.

"Even I have standards, Jo. Like I said, I don't mix work and... _not_ work." She laughed again and nudged his elbow.

"You don't know what you're missing," she teased and he rolled his eyes.

Driving home, he felt unnerved by having to admit his secret... but he was certain Jo would keep it. He managed to forget all about Castiel Novak until the moment his head hit the pillow. He tossed and turned for hours, and when sleep finally found him, it was plagued with the steady gaze of blue eyes just beyond his reach.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There is a brief sex scene in this chapter between Castiel and another man (not Dean). Not to worry... remember we always promise a happy ending. We both felt it fit the storyline.

Castiel didn't bother to put the top down. He just started the engine and even her purr failed to comfort him. For the first time since making the decision to move here, he felt like it might have been a mistake. Captain... no, _Dean_... would be a distraction that he couldn't allow. He came here to start a new life and hiding his true self wasn't an option. Ever the General's son, he stiffened his spine, backed the car out, and drove away as fast as he could.

He was exhausted and his body hadn't adjusted to the night shift hours yet. As he entered his apartment, he sighed. With the exception of college roommates and the military barracks, Castiel had always lived alone and liked it that way... until now. Today, he found no comfort in solitude and the unexpected feeling of loneliness left him feeling unsettled. He had no one to bitch about his laundry or the dishes in the sink. His home just felt.... empty. Perhaps he should get a pet... something that didn't require a lot of upkeep. Fish—boring and untouchable. Birds—messy and loud. Snakes— _nope and nope_. He decided it was probably best to table the idea of getting a pet until he got a real house.

Castiel went to the kitchen to rummage for something to eat and ended up scrambling some eggs. It reminded him of Dean asking that intern out to breakfast. He knew it was irrational to be jealous, especially since he already decided on a strict hands-off policy where Dean Winchester was concerned. Still... he couldn't deny that it pissed him off. Maybe because he suspected Dean only did it to prove he was _totally straight_. And since the others didn't seem to give a rat's ass, Dean most likely did it to prove the point to _Castiel_... which only pissed him off more.

When he finished eating, he stripped off his scrubs and entered his tiny bathroom. The shower was hot and while the water pressure wasn't the best, it served its purpose. He rinsed the shampoo out of his hair, then turned and let the water fall across his back and shoulders. His head lulled forward and he closed his eyes. The seconds ticked by and, knowing the hot water would run out soon, he quickly washed his body. As he ran soapy fingers down the crack of his ass, he tensed. It had been too long. He wanted to be touched... to be wanted... to be fucked hard and fast.

Captain Winchester had been the star of most of his fantasies over the last five years, but now he needed to be replaced. _But with whom_? He thought of his favorite show and the image of the sexy archer in red leather popped into his head. The character was played by one of his favorite actors, Colton Haynes. Muscular with full, pouty lips just waiting to be kissed. He reached down and cupped his sac, giving it a squeeze before wrapping his hand around the base of his cock. He stroked it slowly, up and down. Colton would have a big cock... long and thick. He would use his strong fighter's body to pin Castiel down and pound into him without mercy. He imagined the blissful feeling of being filled completely and started fucking into his fist. The combination of the hot water outside and the heat rising within left him panting harsh bursts of air through open lips. He was so close...

He leaned in to press his mouth on those delicious lips... only to realize that they were framed by freckles and he was looking into green eyes that taunted him. He felt the warm air on his ear from the man whispering filthy things while he fucked into Castiel. _No... not him... please..._ His orgasm crashed through him, cum streaking the tiles before being washed down the drain. Breaths ragged, his anger overcame the euphoria that usually followed his release.

Wrenching the taps off, he flung the curtain aside and stepped onto the mat. Thankfully, the mirror was steamed over and he didn't have to look at himself. He toweled off and crawled into bed. The dark curtains kept out the bright Texas sun, but he couldn't seem to relax. As it often did when he was stressed out, his mind drifted to his time in Afghanistan. The day he was taken by insurgents and what happened while in their custody scarred him in more ways than one. His CO ordered him to go to therapy and it helped some, but it would never erase the memories.

_"Captain, will you check on Tech Sergeant Benedict? He's running a fever." Castiel looked up from the chart of his current patient, a young airman with a bullet wound to his upper thigh, and nodded absent-mindedly. He put the clipboard back on the hook by the bed and then all hell broke loose, rapid gunfire and shouts disrupting the order of the base. Castiel was alerted to the sight of everyone running for cover. He stepped toward the door to find out what was happening and that was the last thing he remembered._

_He woke to a throbbing headache. Someone was splashing water on his face and yelling at him in Pashto. He could make out the words doctor and help. He tried to sit up, but a wave of nausea hit him and his vision blurred, indicating a concussion. He touched the back of his head and winced when he felt the dried blood caked in his hair._

_Castiel was pushed into a makeshift medical tent where a man lay on a cot. He was dressed in a black uniform, which meant that there was no way of knowing what side he was fighting on or if he was just a paid mercenary hired by local druglords. His left leg was a mangled, bloody mess. Another man, also in black, entered and spoke to Castiel in English, telling him to save the man or he would be killed._

_In the end, Castiel did everything he could, but the man's leg could not be saved. He still remembered the screams as he performed a primitive field amputation. The insurgents didn't have much in the way of medical supplies and they only had homemade alcohol to deaden the pain._

_When it was over, his shaking hands were bound and he was thrown into a tent. He must have passed out from the concussion and the aftermath of the extremely high adrenaline spike he had during the surgery. The next time he woke, it was dark outside and he was being pulled to his feet. His head was somewhat clearer, but he was weak from the lack of food and water._

_The too-bright lights illuminated the center of camp and Castiel could see several men standing around, all holding heavy automatic weapons. He was forced to his knees and knew he was about to die. His only regret was not being able to see his mother again to say goodbye. He took a deep breath and waited._

_The man he assumed was the leader came to stand in front of him and the jeers from the other men got louder. There was laughter and Castiel had been here long enough to pick up on what they were saying. He recognized the terms for penis and oral sex. For a moment, he was confused. Then the leader unbuttoned his filthy pants. No. Not that. Why didn't they just kill him?_

_He clenched his jaw shut and tried to turn his head away, but the leader grabbed his face and held it in a brutal grip while stroking his penis to a full erection. The smell of unwashed skin made Castiel's stomach roll. This couldn't be happening..._

Castiel shook the foul memories from his head and his thoughts turned to the rescue. He remembered the brash way Winchester strolled into the enemy encampment like he owned the place. The way Winchester's body felt pressed to his while he protected Castiel from the bullets flying around them. The way his hand felt and the flash of desire he saw in the man's eyes... and the kiss that almost happened before they were interrupted. For months, he thought about reaching out to Winchester, but he couldn't bring himself to do it. He didn't know why. It took him a long time to recover from what happened... whenever he closed his eyes, his kidnapping and assault replayed over and over in his mind and he could only sleep with the aid of pills. He eventually put everything in the past where it belonged. Seeing Captain Winchester again brought it all back to the surface. It wasn't the man's fault... but the mind wasn't always rational and he couldn't prevent it from associating the bad feelings with the good. He closed his eyes and did the breathing exercises he learned from taking yoga. Soon he was asleep. 

It was only noon when he awoke. He'd only been out for three hours, but no matter how hard he tried, he couldn't quiet his mind enough to go back to sleep. Castiel eased out of bed and padded to the kitchen barefoot and naked. The bottled water was cold and refreshing. He leaned against the counter to finish it as he made plans for the rest of his day. He didn't have anywhere he needed to be until the shift started at seven tonight, but the thought of being in this cramped apartment all day grated on his nerves. Maybe he could just get in his car, put the top down, and ride around the city. He needed to learn how to get around without relying on GPS every time he needed groceries.

Maybe he should do his laundry. He stared at the large pile on the floor and frowned. He'd been putting it off because the apartment didn't have washer/dryer hookups and his machines were currently in storage. The complex had a laundromat on site, but that required him to carry it all down the stairs and across the parking lot. It wasn't an ideal situation... but he was running out of clean clothes, so he got dressed and made his way to the facility.

It was empty, but several machines were going, including all the dryers. Castiel dropped his clothes into two washers and inserted his quarters. He plopped down in one of the cheap plastic chairs and pulled out the novel he was reading. He tried to focus on the words, but he couldn't... he was too wound up. Thinking about Winchester saving his ass only made him angry. He wanted to dislike the man, but Dean Winchester would always be a hero... his savior. Castiel needed to take the feelings he had back then and cut them out of the equation. Doctor Winchester wasn't the same as _his_ Captain Winchester... not the man from his fantasies anyway. Dean was likeable, but Castiel wasn't sure if working with the man for prolonged periods of time was a good idea. Whenever he caught a glimpse of him in the ER, visions of Dean sprawled naked in his bed made Castiel's heartbeat accelerate. But nothing was going to happen between them and Castiel had to learn to live with it.

When the washing cycle finished, he transferred the wet clothes to his baskets. He heard the door open and shut, but paid no attention other than to hope it was someone clearing out a dryer. He turned and nodded briefly at the nice-looking guy holding a wicker laundry hamper. The man opened the door to one of the tumbling machines and felt the contents for dampness. He shrugged as if saying his laundry was dry enough and began dumping it into his hamper. Castiel observed him for a few seconds. He really was attractive... tall, rugged with dark blond hair in the standard military cut. From the patches he was placing back on his freshly dried uniform, Castiel saw that he was a captain in the Army.

"Are you stationed at Bullis?" Castiel asked conversationally so he wouldn't look like a dick impatiently waiting for the man's dryer. The man looked up and flashed Castiel a smile that drew his gaze to the man's full lips.

"No, Fort Sam... at least I was until last week. I'm shipping out tomorrow for Kabul," he replied.

"Oh...well, good luck."

"Thanks, this is my third tour," he said and Castiel couldn't mistake the flair of interest in his green eyes. When Castiel stepped forward to put his laundry in the now empty dryer, the man didn't move, so Castiel had to brush against him. Castiel met his eyes with a challenge of his own. "I'd invite you to my place for a cold one, but I'm sleeping on a friend's couch until my flight."

Castiel didn't reply at first. He shut the dryer door and pressed the coins into the slot. When the clothes began to tumble, he met the man's eyes. "I think I have a couple of beers in my fridge."

" _Perfect_ ," the captain whispered, still in Castiel's personal space. Warring with his conscience, Castiel tried to make a decision. It was obvious the man was flirting with him. He was shipping out tomorrow, so there would be no strings attached. On the other hand, one-night stands were _not_ Castiel's thing. The angel on his shoulder reminded him that he was looking for someone special... someone to spend his life with. A quick and dirty fuck wouldn't help him with that. Then the devil on his other shoulder reminded him that he'd had a shitty couple of days and needed to do _something_ to get a certain man out of his head. A quick and dirty fuck _could_ help with that. He flicked the stupid angel off his shoulder and sided with the devil this time. Reaching up to cup the back of the man's neck, Castiel pulled him close and kissed him. The man responded by grabbing his ass with both hands and Castiel hummed his approval.

The kiss may have lasted seconds or minutes, Castiel didn't know and didn't care. It was the captain that pulled away first, his lips wet with their combined spit. "Follow me," Castiel said gruffly. He left his baskets on the floor and led the way to his apartment. It wasn't until he opened the door and ushered him inside that he realized the man was carrying his hamper of laundry. If his cock wasn't aching so damn bad, it would be comical.

Castiel wanted it rough on his hands and knees... he had no desire to face the man fucking him. This wasn't about making memories... it was about forgetting. He stroked his cock in time with the captain's thrusts. No words were spoken, just loud grunts and harsh gasps. The air was thick with the musky smell of sex and sweat. The captain came first, his weight heavy on Castiel's back. A moment later, Castiel spilled his cum over the bedspread and winced as the other man eased out of his abused hole. He'd be sore tomorrow. He collapsed on his side so he didn't land in the mess. It was the first eye contact they had since Castiel handed him the condom and lube.

"I should probably go." He tossed the condom and dressed quickly. "Gotta pack and... yeah," he said, noticeably awkward. Castiel covered his body with the sheet and nodded, a stiff smile gracing his lips.

"Have a safe flight." God, how moronic. The other man didn't seem to notice. He paused at the door.

"Hey, um... are you okay?" He was looking at Castiel with concern. It confused him... this was supposed to be quick and dirty. They didn't even know each other. Why should this guy give a shit about how he feels? Castiel didn't answer and the man came and sat down on the bed. "Look, I'm guessing this isn't something you normally do. I don't either. And I don't know what your reasons are, but I know mine. I understand what it's like to need to step out of your own skin for a while."

Castiel looked at him... _really_ looked. He had kind green eyes and a gentle smile. It was then that he recognized the resemblance, and he felt his stomach twist. He ran a hand through his hair, not knowing what to say. The man patted his shoulder.

"I'm gonna head out now. Thanks for this." At Castiel's lifted brow, he added, "I really mean that, by the way." He gently caressed Castiel's cheek, kissed him softly, and then he was gone. When he heard the door shut, Castiel growled in frustration and hit the pillow next to him.

_What had he done?_ He scratched an itch, that's all. He tried to find the silver lining and all he could come up with was that he gave a soldier a good time before he shipped out. But no good deed goes unpunished. When he went to retrieve his laundry, he took the stairs too fast and winced. The nameless man had done his best to prep him, but Castiel just kept insisting he was ready. There hadn't been any blood, but he was in for some pain over the next few days. It served him right.

_Nameless_... Castiel laughed bitterly. They hadn't even exchanged names. He felt cheap. He had never been the type of man to hook up five minutes after meeting someone... or _not_ meeting them in this case. He did it to forget, but he ended up making things so much worse. And he felt horrible for it.

There were days when Dean didn't feel like going to work. Everyone had those from time to time, but this was more than that. Ever since his last shift, the simmering feeling of dread had only gotten worse. Castiel Novak was the newest member of the ER crew, Jo knew he was bi, and it felt like his carefully constructed life was suddenly spiraling out of control.

He unclipped his badge from the rearview mirror, snatched up his stethoscope, and let out a long, slow exhale. The black 'Vette was already there. He got out and stared at the perfect specimen. What was she... maybe a '62? Not a speck of rust in sight. Someone loved her dearly. He walked around and took a moment to admire the classic beauty, then groaned when he saw the license plate. This was just the cherry on the shit sundae his life had recently become. The vehicle was _Novak's_. The irrational side of him wanted to believe that it didn't make the guy even more awesome, but he had too much respect for the Chevrolet craftmanship and anyone who cherished it the way he did. He briefly thought that he and Novak could have been good friends... if he didn’t want to kiss the motherfucker senseless every time he looked at him.

As he cleared the double doors, he vowed to himself that he wasn't going to hide tonight. Yesterday, he spent more time worrying about not being seen than focusing on the patients. He waved to the members of the day shift as they finished up and made his way to the locker room.

Novak and Jo were already there. He stiffened slightly, but nodded to both and opened his locker to stow his wallet and car keys. The door opened and Lisa Braeden waltzed in. She was the Shift Head and the bane of Dean's existence. Back when Dean was an intern, they had a brief thing. He was starting to fall for her when he found out she was also having a 'thing' with a first-year resident _and_ a surgeon. She turned up pregnant and there were actually bets on who the baby's daddy was. Dean had a moment of panic, but when she got engaged to the surgeon a few weeks later, he breathed a sigh of relief. They tried to keep a professional relationship, but they ended up butting heads a lot. She was a 'by the book' supervisor and Dean received the majority of his medical training in the deserts of the Middle East where the rules took a back seat to saving lives. 

"Hello, Jo, Dean... and you must be Castiel. I'm Lisa. Lisa Braeden. Sorry I wasn't here to greet you yesterday, but my sitter quit and I had to spend the day finding a new one." She held out her hand and Novak took it. "I'm the head of the department, so if you have any issues, just find me."

"Thank you," Novak responded politely.

Introductions over, she turned to Jo. "Finding someone to watch Ben has been a total nightmare."

"Yeah, I get that. Not too many people will take a kid during night shift hours," Jo sympathized. "What about Ketch? Isn't he back on days?" Dean rolled his eyes and shrugged when Novak caught him. Ketch was the surgeon Lisa was currently fucking. Not the kid's dad... that dude didn't last long at all. He left for parts unknown a few years back and never returned. Dean would bet his left nut that she couldn't be faithful to him either.

"Arthur and Ben don't get along," Lisa said quietly. Dean didn't get it... Ben wasn't a bad kid. He met the boy a few times at hospital events and found that he was actually pretty cool. Dean slammed his locker and made his escape. The last thing he wanted to do was hear about Lisa's shit. He didn't notice Novak behind him until they got to the nurse's station. Benny was already there and looked up at the two of them.

"Got a busy night, fellas. Dean, can you take chest pains in Four? Castiel, you can take the broken ankle in Ortho." He handed them each a clipboard and they went in opposite directions. Several times over the next couple of hours, Dean noticed Novak walking funny. He overheard Benny tell Charlie that Novak wasn't in a good mood. It really wasn't Dean's problem.

"Hey, Novak... got a sec?" His mouth opened without his permission.  _What the hell was he doing?_ Novak eyed him warily, but nodded and followed Dean into the break room.

"Yes?" Novak seemed annoyed. Dean wished he knew where he went wrong. He liked Novak when they first met... enough to keep fantasizing about him for five years. Just because they couldn't go back to that moment in the tent, it didn't mean he couldn't try being friends with the guy.

"It's probably none of my business, but you seem to be in pain. You sick?"

"You're right, it's none of your business," Novak said shortly and moved to go around Dean. Dean pressed a hand to Novak's chest, stopping him.

"Listen, dude... I'm not sure how we got off on the wrong foot, but you need to chill the fuck out."

_"Chill out?"_ His voice was low and cold and there was not a single bit of warmth in his eyes. Now Dean was certain he had done something to piss the guy off... he just didn't know what it was. Whatever the case, they couldn't go on this way, so Dean decided it was time to do something about it.

"Yeah. I know I didn't exactly roll out the welcome wagon, but there's no reason we can't be friends... or at least friendly."

"You want to be friends?" Novak was looking at him in disbelief.

"Sure. Better than being enemies, right?" Dean kept his expression neutral. He watched Novak's face carefully. His features were set, but his baby blues were conflicted. Dean decided to keep going, hoping he could say something to convince Castiel that he was welcome here. "Look, we all may be coworkers, but we're also a family here." Dean saw Novak's jaw tic ever so slightly.

"You guys going to be long? Because I have patients backing up," Benny said, leaning into the doorway.

"Just think about it," Dean said as he followed Benny. Novak came out of the breakroom a few seconds later. Dean saw that he was still walking stiffly and it occurred to him that he didn't press Novak for the reason why.

The shift went by quickly and for that, Dean was thankful. He spent the first several hours avoiding Jo, but realized he was being stupid. She would never betray him. They wound up eating together in the cafeteria, joined by Charlie shortly after they sat down. Dean caught himself looking around for Novak, but he never showed. If Dean was being distant, no one mentioned it. Once their break was over, Jo headed to check on some labs while Dean and Charlie took the corridor that led back to the ER.

He should have known his best friend would be perceptive enough to know something was bothering him. "So, Novak..."

"Not going there, Charlie," Dean countered defensively. He huffed in annoyance when she kept talking as if he hadn't said anything.

"Five years, right?" She didn't wait for the answer because she knew it already. "Five long years and yet you remember each other's names. _Fascinating_ ," she said in her best Spock imitation.

"Charlie," Dean warned.

She faced him, pulling him to a stop in the hall. "What really happened?" Knowing he couldn't lie to her, he scraped his teeth over his lower lip before gathering the courage to answer.

"I told you. Novak got into a scrape..." It was a lot more than a _scrape_ , but no one needed to know that. "I saved his ass and that's that." Her look told him she wasn't satisfied. "Fine," he snapped. "After we rescued him, he had to wait on his battalion to send a transport vehicle for him. I went to say goodbye and good luck and we... uh..."

"Had awesome sex?" Charlie asked, her eyes full of excitement.

" _No_ ," he exclaimed, but then lowered his voice after looking around. "No sex... not even a kiss." She looked crestfallen and oddly enough, Dean felt the need to make her feel better. "But we had this moment..." And fuck him sideways, he sounded like a freakin' romance novel. He looked at his friend and saw that her eyes were filled with pity. "Fuck, Charlie, don't look at me like that. It wasn't like he was the love of my life or something. It was a shitty situation and we were probably just horny."

"Right, Dean. Because horny guys always talk about the _moments_ they shared together." She rolled her eyes, then grew uncharacteristically serious. "He's still carrying a torch for you." Dean couldn't help but laugh.

"Yeah, right. He's been giving me the stink-eye since he got here. I even asked him if we could be friends or at least, friendly co-workers."

"And what did he say?"

Dean waited until a few nurses walked by them before answering. "Not a damn thing."

"Uh... Dean..." Charlie had a guilty look. Dean knew it meant trouble for him.

"What did you do?"

"Well... I may have _hinted_ to him that you were straight... as in, not out to anyone. I saw the way you reacted to each other and I didn't want him to... _complicate_ things for you." Dean exhaled slowly. Of course, Charlie tried to protect him... she always did. How did Novak take it though? Was Novak out? He had no way of knowing without asking invasive, personal questions. This whole thing was turning into one big cluster-fuck. Charlie was nearly in tears with worry and Dean couldn't have that.

"Char, stop. Seriously, don't worry about it. I know you were only trying to help. I'll figure something out." Dean laid a reassuring hand on her shoulder and started moving toward the ER again. A few seconds passed before she spoke again.

"Hey, hold up a second..." Charlie paused, then pulled him into an empty exam room and closed the door. "I know I've said it before, but you have to know that nobody here would ever have a problem with your sexuality. If you would come out..."

"No. I'm not going to do that." Dean felt his heart speed up and he clenched his fists, trying to rein in the sudden rush of anxiety.

"But—"

"I _can't_ , Charlie. I know people here wouldn't care. That's not the issue." Dean ran a hand through his hair and started pacing. "Do you have any idea what would happen if my old man found out? The shit storm that would bring... You can't possibly understand. Your parents aren't around to make your life a living hell like mine."

He regretted it the second the words left his mouth. Charlie was orphaned at the age of twelve when both of her parents were killed in a car accident. She spent the rest of her childhood bouncing around foster homes. Now, her only family was Dean, Sam, and a few close friends from work. He hated himself for hurting her. Charlie's face paled and she stepped toward the door. Dean blocked her path and wrapped his arms around her, one hand petting the back of her head.

"I'm sorry. I shouldn't have said that." She sniffed. "I wasn't lashing out at you, I promise. It's not your fault I'm so fucked up."

Charlie pulled back to look up at him, her damp eyes flashing with anger. "You are _not_ fucked up, Dean. Your parents are. They're the ones with the problem, not you. Don't even think about insulting my best friend again, capisce?"

"Yes, your majesty. I capisce," Dean chuckled. They hugged for another minute, then Dean grabbed a tissue and gently wiped away her tears. "All good now?"

Charlie nodded. "Yep. I'm good. You?"

"Me? I'm fan-fucking-tastic," he said, a little too brightly. She gave him a knowing look, squeezed his hand, and led the way back to work.

Dean followed her, deep in thought. What would it be like to come out? Did he truly believe that his work family would support him? He knew the answer immediately... yes, they would support him. The real problem was his father. Just the thought of facing the man and dealing with the fallout was enough to make him feel like he was going to throw up. He motioned to Charlie to go ahead and ducked into the bathroom.

Dean couldn't breathe... He went to the sink and splashed water on his face. When he looked in the mirror, his vision blurred. He gripped the side of the sink and concentrated on moving air through his lungs, focusing on the anatomy instead of the need for oxygen. As the first deep breath reached his bronchioles, he started to calm down.

What's the worst that could happen? His mother would stop talking to him? She barely acknowledged her children's existence and was too busy with her career to be a mother. The Campbell Foundation had always been more important to her than her own kids. The entire Campbell clan, including Mary, would disown him. No loss there... Dean despised the Campbells. They were bitter, money-hungry people who only valued family members for their social standing. He wouldn't get his inheritance from them, but he didn't care about it anyway. Dean only wanted what he earned, and he only needed what he already owned.

What about his father? The man barely spoke to him and never hesitated to make Dean feel like shit. Did Dean even care what his father thought of him? He didn't know anymore. He spent his entire life trying to get his father's approval... doing everything he could to make him proud. The world saw the great John Winchester as a god among men, but Dean had no respect for him. The man was cold, vindictive, judgmental, and never showed an ounce of interest in actually being a father to Dean or Sam. Hell, he didn't even show up for Sam's high school graduation. Dean became the man he is today because Sam needed him, and Sam turned out awesome because Dean loved his brother enough to raise him with kindness and compassion. The only part of their success that John Winchester could take credit for was the fact that he paid for college. Dean suspected he only did it because everyone expected the Winchester sons to join the family business. It certainly wasn’t because he loved them or believed in them. No, Dean didn't wasn't sure if he cared what his father thought of him anymore.

So... what was holding him back?

Castiel got to work thirty minutes early because he couldn't stand being alone in his stifling apartment anymore. He changed the sheets before he left, but the smell of sex was still in the air. To top it all off, he entered the locker room to find the blonde intern already there. The sharp pang of jealousy was unpleasant, and he tried his best to be nice. Thankfully, their stilted conversation was interrupted by Dean. With sidelong glances, Castiel watched him put his wallet and keys in his locker. Unlike Castiel, Dean had pictures taped inside, but he couldn't see who was in them.

The door opened again, and a shapely brunette entered the room. She introduced herself and Castiel could almost feel the tension radiating from Dean. Was there a history between those two? They made a striking couple. The evidence seemed to indicate that Dean was bisexual. Castiel wasn't sure what to make of that. No. He didn't care. It didn't matter who Dean... His rambling thoughts were cut off by the loud clang of Dean's locker slamming shut. Without a word, Dean left the locker room.

The two women, engrossed in conversation about babysitters, didn't seem to notice. Castiel didn't have anything to offer, so he made his exit as well. He walked behind Dean until they got to the nurse's station. Benny was waiting with their first cases of the night, and they parted ways to see to their patients.

He tried to concentrate on his work, but he was acutely aware of the unpleasant result of rough sex. He did his best to hide it and planned on taking a hot bath when he got home. It would help, but he should have done it before his shift. Two hours in, he had to stop and take a couple of Ibuprofen. "Headache?" Benny asked, catching him.

"No," he growled. He felt like a lion with a thorn in its paw. Everything was putting him in a foul mood and the twinges of pain he felt every time he took a step were a bitter reminder of his bad decision.

"Hey, Novak... got a sec?" Dean asked from the other side of the case board. Castiel met his eyes head-on. What did Dean want with him? Curious, he nodded and trailed after Dean to the break room.

As soon as the door swung shut behind him, he asked, "Yes?" He knew he sounded cold and terse, but Dean was slowly becoming that thorn in his paw... irritating and unsolvable.

"It's probably none of my business, but you seem to be in pain. You sick?" Why did Dean have to be so damn observant? He couldn't do this... not now... and definitely not with Dean Winchester.

"You're right, it's none of your business." He tried to get around Dean, but he was blocking the doorway... and then he put his hand on Castiel's chest and _fuck_ , he felt the electricity from his touch. It froze him in his tracks.

"Listen, dude... I'm not sure how we got off on the wrong foot, but you need to chill the fuck out."

_"Chill out?"_ How dare he? _He_ was the one pretending nothing happened between them that day. _He_ was the one pretending to be something he wasn't.

"Yeah, I know I didn't exactly roll out the welcome wagon, but there's no reason why we can't be friends... or at least friendly."

Castiel was taken aback. _Friends_? Dean wanted Castiel to be his friend? He had to ask to clarify. "You want to be friends... with me?"

"Sure. Better than being enemies, right?" Could Castiel put aside the fabricated feelings he had for Dean and be friends? "Look, we all may be coworkers, but we're also a family here." Oh, now Castiel understood. Dean didn't want their issues to interfere with _his_ family. Before he could tell Dean were to stick his offer of friendship, the door opened and Benny called them back to work.

Later, when he saw Dean and Jo heading for the cafeteria, he fought his own hunger. There was no way he could watch those two eating together. Instead, he grabbed a Coke and a pack of crackers out of the vending machine.

He spent the rest of the shift on minor cases... setting a broken finger, discussing blood sugar levels with an elderly patient, and countless others. He was glad nothing serious came in because his focus was shot to hell.

Near the end of their shift, he pushed open the door to the break room and ran smack into Dean. Both men grunted on impact. "Sorry," Dean said, recovering quickly.

"No, it was my fault. I wasn't paying attention," Castiel apologized, taking full blame.

"Hey, want to grab some breakfast?" At the invitation, Castiel's mouth hardened, assuming he knew what Dean meant by _breakfast._

"I don't think Jo would appreciate it," he said, voice laced with sarcasm.

"Jo? Why would she..." Castiel saw the exact moment it registered. Dean's eyes widened and then narrowed.

"Jo is a friend," he stated matter-of-factly. "That's all." Castiel knew Dean wasn't lying. He could see the truth in his eyes.

"What is she, your beard? Is that how you keep up appearances?" The words came out more harshly than he intended. He couldn't find fault with Dean's decision to keep his sexual identity safely locked away... he did it himself for years. His disappointment just got the better of him. The fantasy he dwelt on all these years turned out to be someone who was still living in the shadows, far beyond his grasp. But he couldn't take back the words.

Dean's expression hardened and his eyes grew dark. "You don’t know a thing about me or my life. Even if what you said was true, there's a huge, gaping hole in your logic." Castiel's brow furrowed in confusion as he waited for Dean to continue. Dean leaned closer and looked him dead in the eyes. "I just asked _you_ to breakfast." With that, Dean turned and left the room, leaving Castiel feeling like he'd just been punched in the gut. He had been completely wrong about Dean. The man seemed to genuinely want to be friends with him. Maybe it was time for Castiel to leave behind his fantasies and embrace something real.

Castiel went after him and grabbed him by the arm, ignoring the sensation he felt when their skin touched. Dean faced him expectantly. His expression told Castiel he wasn't going to make this easy.

"You were right, Dean. I'm sorry for saying what I did. I shouldn’t have made unfair assumptions when I know nothing about your life." Dean's face softened, and Castiel took it as his cue to continue. "It's true, I don't really know you. But I want to."

Dean eyed him shrewdly. "I know Charlie told you... or at least _hinted_ , as she says." Castiel opened his mouth to respond, but Dean held up his hand to stop him. "It's fine. She can't help it," he said with a laugh. Then he looked at Castiel solemnly. "I know there might have been  _something_  between us over there. But here, I just can't be anything more than friends." Castiel knew the score, but the words still hurt. It must have shown on his face because Dean reached out and laid a hand on his shoulder. "Cas, if you can be okay with that, I think we could be pretty good friends."

Dean was looking at him with so much open sincerity, Castiel couldn't imagine ever denying him anything. And even though he knew it would hurt more, he couldn't bear to turn him away. He nodded and replied, "I would like that, Dean."

Just before his shift was over, Castiel was given the file for an older woman with weakness on her left side and elevated blood pressure. Castiel thought the probability for stroke was high. He pushed aside the curtain and found Dean leaning against the bed talking to the woman. "Novak, this is Mildred. She comes in every now and then to show me what I'm missing out on. I'd marry her if she'd have me." Conspiratorially, he leaned over to whisper, "See, I told you he was almost as gorgeous as me."

The woman was eyeing him like he was a juicy filet mignon. "He is very pretty. Can you turn around, please?" He was about to do so when Dean's burst of laughter stopped him. _Oh_. The woman wanted to see his...

"Winchester, do you have this case or is she mine?" He should have thought before he spoke because Mildred began to smile wickedly.

"Oh, I'm all yours, Honey." Dean bent to kiss the woman on the cheek and slapped Castiel on the back as he walked by.

"Don't worry, Cas, she won't bite... hard," he said as he let the curtain close behind him. _Cas?_ It was the second time Dean had used the shortened version of his name... was that going to be a thing now? He didn't have time to mull it over because Mildred, while quite amusing, was still his patient and he had tests to run before he could figure out what treatment she needed. He was just leaving her when he saw Dean laughing with a little boy as they rolled him toward the elevators for surgery. It was then that Castiel realized being Dean's friend wouldn't be a bad thing at all.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Before you send out the lynching party, the soldier did not do anything wrong. There was no abuse and all of it was consensual.


	3. Chapter 3

Dean made his way back to the ER and kept his head down for the rest of his shift. It had been a long time since he completely buried himself in his work like he so often did during his time in the military. He shut everything out and focused on putting one tired step in front of the other, closing himself off from the usual comradery with his co-workers. He was deep inside his own head and couldn't stop thinking about the way Novak acted when Dean tried to make peace with him. The disappointment he felt was unexpected and he still didn't understand what he'd done to make the guy so angry with him. It's not the first time he'd been disliked by someone... he was old enough to know that sometimes people just didn't get along. But that wasn't the case with Novak... no, _Cas_. Cas liked him when they first met, Dean was sure of it. Was that because they didn't really know each other then? Did Cas dislike him now that he'd gotten to know him? Dean was more than a little hurt by that. Instead of lashing out like he typically did when his emotions got the better of him, he grew even more quiet and withdrawn.

The night got worse when they ran into each other... literally. Dean couldn't help trying again and it blew up in his face. Cas had to toss Jo's name out there... like she'd be jealous if Dean went out to breakfast with someone else. Cas' sharp words hit the mark, though... Dean _was_ using Jo to prove he was straight. Would he ever stoop low enough to use her as a beard? He knew the answer was yes, and it didn't sit right with him at all. Dean didn't always tell the _whole_ truth, but he considered himself an honest man. Hiding himself was one thing... hiding behind someone else was quite another. It struck him as both dishonest and cowardly, and it made him feel ashamed. Knowing that Cas was the one who started him on this journey down Existential Crisis Lane only made the situation more complicated. When he had enough and stormed out of the break room, Cas actually followed him and apologized. Dean had to admit, the simple gesture made him feel better.

Dean put all his cards on the table... friends and nothing more. By his expression, Cas wasn't exactly overjoyed, but Dean could work on that. He could be good friend... at least, Charlie thought so. Cas was new here and Dean decided he would make it his personal mission to be Cas' tour guide, buddy, and insider on all things S.A.M.

He was at the desk signing off on some charts when the ambulance wheeled Mildred in. The older woman was one of the ER's frequent flyers. She lived in an assisted living facility about a block from the hospital. She was a lonely widow and loved to flirt with all the males on staff. Dean adored her for her bold sassiness and the carefree way she viewed the world. He took her hand and followed the stretcher to the open curtain, listening as the paramedics called out her vital signs. Benny glanced over, "You taking this one, Dean?"

"No, give it to Novak," he called out and shut the curtains.

"What gives, Sweet-cheeks? I thought we had something special," she quipped between breaths.

"Come on, you know you're the only girl for me. I just wanted to introduce you to our newest doc. He's hot... _almost_ as gorgeous as me," he said with a wink as he glanced at her monitor and noticed her BP going down. "What's going on, Millie?"

"I was just feeling weak and dropped my glass. Those helicopter nurses at _the home_ overreacted." Dean loved the sarcastic way she referred to the retirement facility. "I'm _fine_." Her vital signs were stable at the moment, but she still needed to be examined... just in case.

The curtain was pushed aside and Cas walked in. Would Dean ever stop reacting to the mere sight of the man? Would that rush of _desire_ ever go away? It was hilarious how easily Mildred flustered the cool and collected Novak. Dean left him to it and got to the nursing station just as they brought in a young boy with acute appendicitis. After confirming the diagnosis with a CT, Dean scheduled an immediate appendectomy, then walked the kid and his parents to the elevator. The patient was a nerdy little dude, and Dean found himself embroiled in a heavy discussion about the Weasley twins and their contributions to the morale of the other characters in the Harry Potter universe.

By the time he got them upstairs and came back down to the ER, the shift was over. Most of the night shift had already cleared out, but Benny was still at the desk talking to a few nurses. Dean gave him a cursory wave and pushed open the door to the locker room. Walker, one of the day shift doctors, was stowing his stuff in his locker when Dean entered. They didn't speak. Walker was still holding a grudge from the beat-down Dean gave him at the gym a few months back. He told everyone that Dean fought dirty, but the ref called it a fair fight. Dean smirked at the still-crooked nose on the man's face.

When he got to his car, he noticed the empty spot next to it. He never got to talk to Cas about his 'Vette. Maybe he could get a ride in it one day. As he got behind the wheel, he imagined driving through San Antonio with the top down... Cas' blue eyes hidden behind sunglasses... the wind ruffling Cas' sexy hair... _Nope, stop thinking with your dick, Winchester_. 

By the time Tuesday morning rolled around, Dean was ready for his regular two-day break. He and Cas had a tentative friendship and Dean took note of how Cas had already won over most of their co-workers. Patients loved him and he had an easy rapport with the younger ones. Overall, Cas was fitting nicely into their little family. As Dean was walking out of the hospital, he saw Cas at his 'Vette putting the top down. "I gotta tell ya, Cas... if it wasn't for my deep and passionate love for my baby here, I'd think long and hard about stepping out on her with your ride. She's pretty sweet, dude." Dean smiled as he drew closer to the pair of classics.

Cas looked up and grinned. "You'd have a fight on your hands. My girl is special," Cas said, lovingly placing a hand on her left hip.

"Yeah, but my baby is bigger and stronger," Dean countered with a cocky grin. When Cas rolled his eyes, Dean chuckled and watched as Cas slid into the driver's seat. The man looked _good_. When he pulled a pair of aviators out and put them on, Dean had to bite his lip to keep from moaning. There should be a law against the motherfucker being this sexy. He turned away and got into his own car, wanting to ask Cas about breakfast but not sure if he should. He started his baby up, then thought _fuck it_ and rolled down his window. "So where are we going for breakfast?"

Dean almost burst into a laugh at the cartoonish way Cas' eyebrows shot up over the rim of his aviators, his mouth agape. He waited patiently as though his question was the most normal thing in the world. Finally, Cas cleared his throat and answered.

"Uh... I don’t really know anything about the area. I guess I could... follow behind you."

Dean almost lost control of the laugh he was holding back. He just smiled and said, "Great." Then he backed out of his spot, put Baby in gear, and drove toward his favorite diner, completely confident that Cas was following him. He wasn't trying to play games... he just decided not to let things be awkward between them anymore. No one ever accused Dean Winchester of being shy, so he was going to make this friendship happen regardless of their repressed feelings. He only hoped Cas would catch on.

They pulled into the diner parking lot and headed inside to find a table. The place was the best 24-hour restaurant in the area and was occupied by patrons in either military or hospital uniforms. Dean sat down in a corner booth and leaned against the wall, one arm draped over the length of the seat while the other held the menu. He didn't know why he bothered... he always got the same thing.

Cas plunked down opposite him and frowned, then adjusted his seat. Dean raised a questioning eyebrow and asked, "Do I want to know?"

Cas eyed him blankly and replied, "I highly doubt it."

 _Oh_. Dean felt a stab of disappointment and squashed it immediately. He couldn't stop his smart-ass mouth though. "Well, I hope he was a fun ride," he said with a half-hearted smile. Cas froze and stared pointedly at his menu, his posture slightly slumped. Dean read his body language and realized his mistake. He knew exactly what Cas was going through. Feeling like crap after his one-night stands happened more often than he cared to admit. Truthfully, Dean wanted more. But between his schedule and overall lack of freedom, it wasn't something he let himself think about... especially since most of his adult life consisted of empty sex with one-time partners. He nudged Cas with his knee under the table. "Hey..." He waited until Cas looked at him. "We've all been there. Hell, I pretty much live there..."

Cas' eyes softened and he was looking at Dean with something different in his eyes. Was it sadness... _or pity_? Dean didn't want anyone's pity. He made his own choices in life, dammit... they weren't always good ones, but they were _his_. Suddenly, a question popped into his head. Was he making choices based on what he wanted, or was he still making choices based on what someone else wanted? The thought made his chest feel tight and he tried to squash his anxiety before Cas noticed. Too late. Cas was practically studying him like he was a lab rat testing experimental cheese. He needed to change the subject right freakin' now.

"So, Cas... tell me how a guy like you came to drive a gorgeous girl like that," he said as he pointed out the window toward their cars. Cas paused like he was considering whether or not to allow the change of subject. When he decided to give Dean the break he needed, Dean understood then that Cas was going to make a great friend.

"It's not a very interesting story, I'm afraid." He gave Dean a sideways smile that made Dean's heart skip. "My grandfather was an extremely kind and generous man... which made him the black sheep of our family." Dean's bark of laughter rang through the diner.

"Gee, Cas... tell me what you really think of your family. Don't hold back," Dean chuckled. Cas returned his smile and seemed to relax.

"You laugh, but it's true."

Just then, the server came over to take their orders. Dean asked for two coffees, then ordered his usual as he pointed it out to Cas on the sign showing the daily specials. "Tuesday, Pig 'N a Poke."

Cas smirked. "Change mine to decaf, please."

Dean scoffed. "Decaf... really? Didn't take you for a pus—wimp," Dean finished with an apologetic look at the server. Cas rolled his eyes before completing his order to the amused woman.

"Waffles, with a side of bacon, extra crispy and two eggs over easy." Dean might not agree with Cas' choice of coffee, but he nodded his approval at the man's breakfast order. As a medical professional, he was accustomed to being alone in his slightly unhealthy eating habits. It was refreshing to find another person who enjoyed a greasy breakfast as much as he did. He made a motion for Cas to continue his story.

"As is evident from my recent relocation, I'm not exactly on good terms with my family. I was always... different from them." The server brought their coffees and Cas reached for the sugar and creamer to doctor his. He offered some to Dean, but Dean waved it off and took a sip of the black coffee. He closed his eyes and sighed in bliss as the warm liquid ran down his throat. When he opened his eyes, Cas was staring at him, frozen with a half-torn packet of sugar over his coffee. He seemed to shake it off and returned to his task. "My father is a career Air Force man... a Brigadier General. It was always his wish that I follow in his footsteps, but I had no desire to do so. It wasn't just the fact that I was gay, I also found the idea of living by such a regimented schedule to be very unpleasant... especially the early mornings."

"Thank God you chose a career that doesn't apply to," Dean said sarcastically. Cas rolled his eyes again. Dean was beginning to find the habit endearing.

"Anyway... I didn't enjoy being in my father's company and my mother was a slave to her career. I was often left to my own devices on a rather large estate with nothing interesting to occupy my time. On my sixteenth birthday, both of my parents were out of the country, and I was alone. My grandfather came up to me and said he wanted to show me something. I followed him outside and saw..."

"The most beautiful car you'd ever seen?"

"No, Dean. It was a hideous, rusty pile of scrap metal on wheels. I remember feeling so confused at the excitement on my grandfather's face. I thought he must have finally lost his mind. Then he pulled me over to the car and laid my hand on the hood and told me something that changed my world and stuck with me for the rest of my life." Cas took a sip of his coffee, folded his hands, and looked at Dean solemnly. "He placed his hand next to mine and said, 'Castiel, what you see now is neglect and a lack of care. All she needs is love... then the beauty inside will shine through for all to see."

Dean was speechless. The server dropped off their food and they dug in, both of them enjoying the hearty breakfast. Dean gazed at him expectantly as he chewed, eager to hear the rest of the story. Cas looked away for a minute before speaking again.

"We spent every free minute on restoring her to perfection. I had no idea he knew so much about cars. Growing up with chauffeurs and having everything done for you can be... empty... meaningless. Rebuilding that car with my grandfather was hands-down the most rewarding thing I had ever done. And it showed me that I could actually do something more than what was predestined for me. He spent our time together asking me the hard questions I never dared to ask myself. It's what led me to the decision to become a doctor." He paused and swallowed thickly, his eyes on his hands. "When she was done, my grandfather hopped in the passenger seat and handed me the keys. We drove around for hours just talking and listening to music and laughing. At home that night, he gave me an envelope and made me promise not to open it until I graduated high school. Then he hugged me, said goodnight, and that was the last time I saw him. He died peacefully in his sleep that night."

Dean set his fork down and laid a hand on Cas' arm. "Cas... I'm sorry for your loss. Sounds like he was an amazing man." 

"He was, Dean. He was." Dean realized he'd left his hand there a little too long and withdrew it slowly.

"If you don't mind me asking... what was in the letter?"

"I don't mind... It was the paperwork for a substantial trust fund that he put solely in my name. My parents couldn't touch it. He said he wanted me to be free to live my life the way I want to whenever I was ready. It was the greatest gift anyone had ever given me and I couldn't even thank him for it." Cas took another sip of coffee and fiddled with his napkin. "Would you mind sharing the story of your car with me?" The blue eyes drew Dean in with their sadness and simultaneous curiosity. He smiled and nodded.

"Sure, Cas, but it's not a profound experience like yours." Dean poked at his food and took another bite. "When I turned sixteen, my dad walked into my room, said 'Here,' and handed me the keys. The end." The sudden burst of laughter from Cas made Dean grin and he felt warmth spread through him. Dean left out the part where the Impala was given to him because it wasn't enough of a status symbol for John Winchester. At the time, he had just accepted the position of Chief of Surgery at John Hopkins and the classic car was replaced with a Mercedes. Dean wasn't quite ready to share those family stories yet.

The rest of breakfast was filled with jokes, good-natured ribbing, and plenty of laughter, something in short supply in Dean's life. It was a new experience for him to be able to relax like this with someone. He didn’t feel pressure to be anyone other than himself and didn’t feel like Cas expected anything more from him than what he gave. He couldn't understand it... but he knew that he wanted to feel like this again.

During their breakfast, Castiel couldn't help admiring the man sitting across from him. Dean was handsome, no doubt about it... but his easy-going manner and compassionate nature went straight to Castiel's heart and made his outward appearance seem less important. He felt mortified when he sat down too hard and Dean asked him about his discomfort. He did his best to hide his reaction, but Dean was clearly more perceptive than most. His response led Castiel to believe that Dean's life had been filled with meaningless sex and one-night-stands. It saddened him to think that someone like Dean didn't have someone to care for him the way he deserved. Castiel had only known him for a short time, but he already knew from personal experience that Dean was kind, forgiving, and selfless to a fault. He briefly wondered what it would be like if he could be that person... the one who got to show Dean what it was like to be cared for... valued... worthy.

When Dean asked him about the car, Castiel considered telling a watered-down version of the story, but he was surprised to discover that he _wanted_ to tell Dean all of it. The way his green eyes softened as Castiel told him about his grandfather... it gave Castiel a glimpse into a truly beautiful soul and he could see that Dean really was _good_. It showed in the way he handled patients and the respect he had for their co-workers. For all his defensiveness and guarded nature, Dean truly cared about people and tried to connect with them. He wasn't dismissive or passive in his interactions, and anyone he came into contact with seemed to leave feeling... _better_. It was a rare gift.

He'd never known anyone like Dean. With the exception of his grandfather, Castiel's family was cold and unfeeling. His father was an outright bully and his mother was only ever there for him when it served her own needs. He was an only child and his parents raised him in isolation. The closest thing to friendship he ever had was at boarding school, but even those relationships were tenuous at best. His isolation was familiar... comfortable... and Castiel was used to keeping his thoughts and feelings under lock and key. Sharing his most treasured memory with Dean was uncharacteristic of him, but it felt... right.

Although the meal was eaten quickly, the two men sat longer, just enjoying each other's company. Their conversation went from one subject to the next with ease. It was only after Dean yawned for the third time that Castiel realized they'd been sitting in the small diner for close to two hours. Castiel picked up the check and pulled out his wallet. Dean stopped mid-sentence. "What are you doing?"

"Paying for breakfast."

"Yeah, that's not happening. I invited you," Dean said, pulling out his own wallet.

"Dean, it's not that big of a deal. You can get it next time." Without giving Dean a chance to respond, Castiel got up and went to the register to pay. As he was waiting, he felt Dean at his back and nearly jumped when he spoke.

"Next time?" Dean asked with a slight smile. Castiel turned his head to answer and saw how close he was... almost close enough to kiss. Just like that, his mouth went dry and his brain deserted him like a traitor.

"Uh..." Castiel stammered, inwardly kicking himself. This seemed to keep happening whenever they were around each other. Castiel hoped it wouldn't complicate things. He didn't have many friends, and so far, his friendship with Dean was set to become the best he'd ever had.

"I'm just messing with you, Cas... of course there'll be a next time." Dean gave him a genuine smile that Castiel found himself returning with ease. Then Dean seemed to notice how close they were standing and took a step back. "Besides, who else could go toe-to-toe with me about classic cars?"

Dean pulled out of the parking lot first and Castiel watched the sleek, black car disappear around the corner. He made a left turn and headed to his apartment. After he showered and crawled into bed, Castiel found his mind on the past once again.

_"Captain Novak, we are relieved that you are safe and sound, and I have personally secured your transport," Major Shaw said. Judging by the tone, Castiel knew the officer was very much aware of who his father was. He wondered if they would have sent a unit of Rangers to rescue him if he'd been Private Nobody from Podunk, Georgia. He knew the answer, and it left a bitter taste in his mouth. "And I can assure you that Captain Winchester's stupidity and blatant disregard for your safety and the welfare of his unit will not go unpunished."_

_Castiel shook his head. No, Captain Winchester would not be punished. Not one American life had been lost. For the first time in his military career, Castiel invoked his parents' names to get what he wanted. "I'm sorry, Sir, but Captain Winchester displayed true valor out there. I'm sure my father, Brigadier General Novak, and my mother, Senator Naomi Novak would be disappointed to hear that you were responsible for punishing the hero that saved their son's life." He cocked an eyebrow and waited for the CO to digest his words. By the bulging vein in his neck, Castiel could tell the man was enraged... but he was smart enough to know he'd lost this one and nodded his agreement._

_"Of course, Captain Novak. I will make sure Captain Winchester is appropriately rewarded for his actions."_

Castiel's thoughts returned to the present as he shifted in bed, trying to get comfortable. Most of the time, when he thought of his time overseas, it wasn't pleasant. But whenever he remembered the look on Major Shaw's face, he couldn't help feeling a sense of satisfaction. He fell asleep with a smile on his face and woke feeling more rested than he had in a long time.  

With Dean being off Tuesday night, Castiel's shift was long and boring. In such a short time, he found that having Dean around made the hours go faster. The shared breaks over strong coffee made the stress from the job disappear, and he'd be lying if he said the view didn't make the time more enjoyable. Castiel had Wednesdays and Thursdays off, which meant that one of their free days overlapped. Friends got together outside of work, didn't they? Maybe Castiel could suggest that they do something together... something that wouldn't be mistaken for a date. They would still get to spend time together, but Dean's secret would remain safe. The thought made him sad for Dean. He couldn't imagine going back into the closet. Life was just too fucking short to live a lie. Castiel had learned what it felt like to come out and live a better life with his new-found freedom. He wanted that for Dean, but it wasn't his decision to make.

On his two days off, Castiel decided to explore his new home. He parked his car downtown and toured the Alamo. He was disappointed with the historical site being situated in the middle of a bustling city. The River Walk was much nicer and he spent several hours going into various shops. He ate a late lunch at a Mexican restaurant, sitting under a brightly colored umbrella and watching the boats filled with tourists go by. The irony wasn't lost on him that even though he lived here now, he still felt like a tourist. Perhaps getting more familiar with the place would soon make him feel more settled.

Thursday, he drove to Brackenridge Park and walked around for most of the day, ultimately declaring it a good place to run. Between relocating and getting his body acclimated to the night shift, he had been too busy to exercise and was starting to feel the effects. He didn't want to get lazy.

Being alone in the city was monotonous, despite all there was to see and do. He was beyond ready to go back to work by the time his Friday night shift rolled around. He didn't want to admit that he was looking forward to seeing Dean again.

Castiel parked in his usual spot next to Dean's car and hurried to the locker room. He stowed his things and made his way to the break room. Most of his co-workers were already there and by the raucous laughter and shouting, they were in a good mood. He saw Dean standing next to a tall man with long hair. Benny and Victor were sitting at one of the tables, hands clasped, elbows down, and surrounded by staff waving money around. Castiel assumed they were placing bets on who would win the arm wrestling match.

Dean caught Castiel's eye and winked. Castiel shrugged and Dean waved him closer. He made his way through the crowd until he was at Dean's side. "Who did you bet on?" Castiel shouted to be heard over the din.

"Benny, man. You see those arms? They're like freakin' tree trunks. Victor's got the stamina, though. I've seen the guy do a forty-eight-hour shift without breaking a sweat. Could go either way, but I would never bet against Benny in a fight." Dean's eyes hadn't left the match. Castiel stepped closer to Charlie and placed five dollars on Victor to win. Dean may bet on brute strength, but Castiel thought it wiser to put his money on stamina.

A roar went up when Benny finally slammed Victor's hand to the table. Money exchanged hands and despite his own loss, Castiel smiled at the way Dean fondled the singles like he hit the jackpot in Vegas instead of taking a few bucks off his co-workers. The room cleared as the hands on the clock struck seven. Dean took hold of Castiel's arm, and Castiel turned to look at him questioningly. "Hey, Cas, this is my little brother. Sam, this is Cas." Castiel stared up at the other man and extended his hand.

"It's nice to meet you," Castiel said.

"Sam's a pediatric surgeon. He's in line for chief," Dean said proudly, and justifiably so. Chief of Pediatric Surgery was a lofty title for one so young.... he couldn't be more than thirty-two or thirty-three years old. The long hair and boyish features made him seem more like an eager college student than a skilled surgeon.

"And Dean talks too much," Sam said with a teasing smile. "It's nice to meet you, too." He turned back to his brother. "I'm heading out. Try not to get in too much trouble tonight." With a final wave, he was gone.

"Guess we should get to work before Benny comes looking for us," Dean said and led the way to the triage area. Castiel followed the short distance, reflecting on how at ease he already felt in this place. Without hesitation, everyone welcomed him with open arms and treated him like part of the team. He could see why Dean felt so comfortable here. Castiel wondered if San Antonio Memorial could become the home he'd been looking for and if these people would one day feel like family to him, too.

  


Breakfast with Cas turned out to be pretty awesome. He _knew_ they could navigate the potential minefield of becoming friends after being attracted to each other. He was still thinking about everything they talked about when he pulled into his driveway. Knowing Cas had been with someone else recently had hurt a little, but he wasn't jealous. If Cas was lonely, he had every right to find someone to help him out with that. Not for the first time, Dean found himself wishing his life was different... that he could be the one keeping Cas company when he was lonely. It was a path he thought about many times in his life but lately, he seemed to be going there more often. And just like all the other times, he shut it down. It didn’t do any good to dwell on what he wanted when he could never have it. All it ever did was fill him with regret, and he'd had enough of that.

Dean spent his two days off doing household chores, going to the gym, and getting together with Sam's groomsmen to plan the bachelor party. The wedding wasn't until the end of May, but Dean wanted Sam to leave the single life behind in style. There was nothing like a night of strippers and debauchery before you strap on the old ball and chain.

On Wednesday evening, he thought about calling Cas to invite him to dinner since he also had the night off. It wouldn't take much to get his number... just one call to Benny and he could pull up Cas' contact information. He picked up his phone and his thumb hovered over the icon for the hospital. No, they were just starting a friendship... it's not like they were besties. _Besties?_ Dean groaned. He was hanging out with Charlie too much. He decided to spend his evening watching NCAA March Madness and eating leftover Chinese food instead. And if his mind occasionally drifted to imagining what Cas was doing on his night off, no one would be the wiser.

Dean was thirty minutes early for his shift on Friday, and it seemed like everyone was in the break room. Benny and Victor were mouthing off about who was stronger. Dean rolled his eyes. Back in the day, Benny played football for LSU until a knee injury took him out of commission his senior year. He trained with Dean some, so Dean knew the man was strong. Victor, a veteran with several tours of duty in the Middle East under his belt, had a different kind of strength. The good-natured argument was getting heated and, sensing an opportunity, Dean stepped between them and placed a hand on each of their shoulders. "Now, now... no need to get personal, boys. How about we settle this once and for all? An arm wrestling match for the title of Biggest Badass is the only fair solution here." Everyone cheered in agreement and a table was cleared to make way for the bout. Charlie caught his eye and smirked, fully aware of what Dean was up to.

While the two contestants were getting into place, Dean started the action by betting on Benny, then money began changing hands with Charlie acting as the bookie. Dean stepped aside after giving her his money and turned to see his brother entering the room. He grinned. "Hey there, Sammy. Ain't this past your bedtime?"

"Nah... I had an infant with an intestinal malrotation and there were some complications," Sam replied as he handed Charlie a dollar. "Put it on Victor, will you, Charlie?"

"Did the kid make it okay?" It was a rhetorical question... if the baby had died, Sam wouldn't be here joining in on the fun. Sam was sensitive and he tended to take it to heart whenever he lost a patient.

"Yeah, she's great," Sam said just as someone shouted for the match to begin. The cheering got even louder and Dean egged Benny on with some well-timed trash talk. Something made him look up and he saw Cas standing back behind the crowd. He waved him over and explained what was going on, Cas looking eager and amused at the whole affair. When Benny won and Dean collected his winnings, he held Cas back to introduce him to Sam.

All too soon, Dean was knee-deep in patients and handling incoming traumas as hours passed in a blur. He was at the nurses' station, head bent over a chart, when the deafening sound of a stomach growling next to him made him look up. He met Cas' very surprised and slightly embarrassed eyes and laughed.

"Holy shit, Cas... a little hungry?" His amusement only grew when Cas' face shifted to mildly indignant.

"Yes, Dean. It's not like we get scheduled meals in our line of work." He resumed writing on his patient's chart. "Besides, I didn't have any cash for the vending machine after..." Cas trailed off looking sheepish.

"Hold up, Cas... Did you lose your money because you bet on _Victor_?" Cas' jaw tensed and Dean had to hold back a laugh. "Dude, I told you never to bet against Benny. You should've listened to my expertise. After all, I _am_ an expert in these matters."

"What's that, Dean... _fighting_?" Cas was being sassy. Dean liked it.

"As a matter of fact, yes. You should come to the gym with me sometime. I could probably teach you a thing or two, city boy." Dean's eyes were shining with mirth and Cas was starting to loosen up.

"Sure, sign me up," Cas said dismissively as he dropped the patient chart in the rack. He turned to Dean. "Want to go grab a bite while we have the chance?"

Dean raised his eyebrows in surprise at the casual tone. He knew they were technically friends now, but since he already wimped out on asking the man to dinner, he didn't expect it to come so easily to Cas. He nodded and fell in step with Cas as they headed toward the cafeteria. When they sat down with overloaded trays of food, they ate eagerly, not caring one bit for table manners or propriety.

"So, did you mean it?" Dean asked with his mouth full of food. Cas didn't seem to care about his lack of manners. He just frowned in confusion at Dean's question. "About signing you up for the gym. If you meant it, I could make time to teach you how to fight." Cas paused with his fork in the air and a slight smile played at the corner of his lips. Now, it was Dean's turn to frown in confusion. He didn't have to wait long for Cas to respond.

"What makes you think I don't know how to fight?" Dean shrugged and went to say something snarky, but Cas kept going. "Oh, I see... You think the Air Force doesn't teach 'fly-boys' how to fight? Or are you assuming that because I'm a 'rich kid' from Boston, I must not know anything about self-defense or fighting techniques. Is that right?" Dean would never admit it but he thought Cas' use of air quotes was cute as fuck.

"Uh... yes?" Dean watched as Cas took the bite he'd been holding, his lips closing around the fork slowly. Dean swallowed around the tightness in his throat. The man was too sexy to exist...

"Well, then I think there's only one way to handle this, Dean." He paused for effect, then looked up from his food to meet Dean's eyes. "I'm going to your gym after our shift. Then you and I are going to spar until one of us begs for mercy. And just so we're clear... it's not going to be _me_." With that, Cas slid gracefully from his seat, gave a slight wink, and dropped off his empty tray as he left the room.

Dean was so fucking turned on, he had to pretend to eat for a few minutes while his dick calmed down. When he was walking back to the ER, he had to force himself to think about anything other than sparring with Cas to avoid getting aroused again. He wasn't sure it was the best idea to engage in an activity filled with close physical contact with Cas, but there was no damn way he was backing out now.


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Let the games begin...

Sharing a meal with Dean was the highlight of his shift. The more time they spent together, the better Castiel became at masking his desire for the man. It wasn't easy. He still found himself fantasizing about Dean's perfect lips every now and then. But he was getting better at compartmentalizing and only allowed himself to indulge in such thoughts when he was alone at home. Still... it was not without difficulty when he was in the ridiculously attractive man's presence.

He was writing a prescription for an adolescent patient with an abscessed tooth when Dean came up beside him. "Hey, Cas, some kid just shit out a fuckton of pinworms. The mom passed out cold and dad is tossing his cookies in the trashcan. Wanna come see?" Castiel slowly lifted his gaze from his pad and blinked a few times.

"How old are you, Dean?" He asked dryly. Dean's lopsided grin made Castiel shake his head. "I think I'll pass on show and tell, thanks."

"I didn't take you for the squeamish type." Dean leaned against the counter and nudged his elbow, causing the pen to leave a long, black streak across the freshly written prescription. With a smirk, Dean stared right in Castiel's eyes and said, "Oops."

Castiel quirked an eyebrow, then crumpled the wasted effort and tossed it into the wastebasket. "I'm not squeamish. I'm a doctor. Intestinal parasites are part of the job, but _not_ something I enjoy seeing for the fun of it." Dean gave him an incredulous look, and Castiel answered it with his _I will smite you_ face. "Don't you have worms to clean up?" Dean pushed away from the counter and ruffled Castiel's already messy hair.

"Later," Dean said as he headed back down the hall. Castiel watched him go. Why were bowed legs such a turn-on? He sighed and re-wrote the prescription.

By the time the shift ended, Castiel had forgotten all about the challenge he threw down at lunch. "Text me your address and I'll pick you up," Dean said, slamming his locker shut.

"What?" Castiel asked just as Charlie barreled into the room. It amazed Castiel that such a petite woman could fill up so much space. She was like a red-headed tornado.

"What's up, bitches?" She stepped up on the long bench down the center of the room and gazed down at them. Without waiting for a response, she continued. "Okay, since you two have decided to compete to see who is the most macho, I'm going to lay down some ground rules."

Castiel frowned, finally remembering the conversation he and Dean had during lunch. No one else was there, so he couldn't figure out how Charlie knew about it. "How did you know about that?"

Charlie gave him a face that said _bitch_ _please_ , then put a hand on her hip. "Rule number one... No punching in your unfairly hot faces. You're pretty to look at, so let's keep it that way." Dean opened his mouth to protest, but Charlie only got louder. "Rule number two... Don't do anything that might injure your hands. You need them for doctor stuff." She paused for effect, making sure she had their undivided attention. "Rule number three... Keep it friendly. I don't want you to get so caught up measuring your dicks that you forget the fact that you're friends." Dean blushed and Castiel looked away uncomfortably.

"Jesus, Charlie... we're sparring, not going to war. Calm the fuck down about it." Dean pointedly held her gaze for a beat, then she nodded in understanding. Castiel felt like he just missed something, but he didn't get the chance to examine the interaction more closely. Dean turned to him. "You cool with me picking you up, or do you want to meet there?"

"Those are my only choices?" Castiel smirked at Dean's confused expression. "Why don't you text me your address and I'll pick _you_ up?"

Dean smiled. "You mean I get to ride in the 'Vette?" Castiel nodded. "Hell, yeah, let's do this. Pick me up in twenty." With that, Dean left the locker room, head already bent over his phone. Seconds later, Castiel's phone beeped with a text notification. Dean's address... he was going to see where Dean lived. He tried not to be excited about it, but he couldn't help himself. Every step Dean took in their friendship brought them closer, and Castiel was happy about that... even if they only remained friends.

Castiel had always been disappointed that he'd never had a best friend before. He had classmates and fellow soldiers he was on friendly terms with, but no one like Dean. In such a short time, they were already as thick as thieves and he felt like he could tell the man anything without hesitation. He trusted Dean and looked forward to spending time with him whenever he got the chance. He could easily see Dean becoming a constant presence in his life... a true best friend.

Exactly nineteen minutes later, Castiel was parked outside Dean's house, debating whether or not to go inside. The house was on a small, shaded lot and was covered in natural stone. An American flag hung from a pole attached to the porch. He was saved from making a decision when Dean appeared at the door and jogged toward the car still dressed in the casual clothes he'd worn home from the hospital, a gym bag hanging casually from his shoulder. With sunglasses completing Dean's look, Castiel had to make an effort to keep his sinful thoughts from showing on his face. 

"Sorry... got stuck on a call from the hospital and didn’t have time to change," Dean mumbled as he opened the car door. 

Castiel was wearing his favorite pair of workout shorts and was very much aware how good his thigh muscles looked in them. From behind his aviators, he could see Dean checking him out when he tossed his bag in the floorboard. Castiel flashed Dean a smile as he settled into the passenger seat, then shifted the car into reverse and backed out of the driveway. "So... where we headed?"

"We're going to my buddy's gym." Dean fired off directions as they drove through the city's streets. Castiel took his eyes off the road a few times to glance over at his handsome passenger. Dean caught his eye a few times and grinned. He seemed so happy and carefree like this... even a little silly as he gave a thumbs-up while giving Castiel a goofy look. Castiel smiled and rolled his eyes as he pulled into the parking lot of a nondescript metal building. A small painted sign read _Turner's Training Center – MMA, Boxing, and Self Defense._

"Will my car be safe here?" Castiel asked while looking around at the surrounding neighborhood. Dean paused in the process of shutting the car door.

"Yeah, man, no one would even think about fucking with it. Rufus would kick their asses. He's got quite a reputation around here." With one final look at his car, Castiel followed Dean into the gym. Bright fluorescent lights illuminated the huge space. On one side, there was an octagon used for MMA bouts situated next to two traditional boxing rings. On the other side, the free weights and various exercise equipment surrounded a large opening with thick floor mats. The smell of stale sweat and testosterone made him wrinkle his nose. Places like this usually didn’t appeal to Castiel since he was a runner and preferred the outdoors.

Dean threw up his hand to wave at a few people as they made their way to a closed door that Castiel assumed led to the locker room. Just as Dean was pushing the door open, an older man appeared. "I've closed out your class. We've got ten registered," he said without preamble.

"Great. Sundays at five, right?" Dean responded. As an afterthought, he nudged Castiel forward. "Rufus, this is Castiel Novak. He's our newest ER doc. He's also a fly-boy, but don't hold that against him." The grizzled-looking man eyed Castiel up and down and then nodded sharply.

"Make yourself at home and don't believe a word this little bastard says," he said gruffly, before walking away. Castiel raised a brow in question.

"Rufus is an old friend. He served with my Uncle Bobby in Desert Storm. Now, he just gives me a hard time."

Castiel filed that information away, but had to ask, "You have a class? What do you teach?"

Dean looked embarrassed and rubbed his hand on the back of his neck. "I teach a six-week course in self-defense a few times a year. It's not a big deal."

"Don't sell yourself short, Dean. I imagine it's a very big deal to the ones you empower to fight back." Dean waved off the compliment and gave Castiel a gentle shove into the locker room.

Since Castiel was already in his workout clothes, he stood idly by while Dean stripped down to a pair of black boxer briefs. Though his eyes were fixed on the outdated bulletin board on the wall, he was acutely aware of Dean's half-naked body a mere three feet away from him. "I've got an extra pair of gloves for you."

"Huh?" Castiel asked intelligently. He turned his head to see Dean already wearing a pair of loose-fitting shorts and a t-shirt with the sleeves ripped off.

"Gloves, dude," he said, shoving a pair of fingerless sparring gloves at him. Castiel took them.

"I thought we were doing hand-to-hand combat."

"Rule number two, Cas. Can't injure the money," Dean said while giving an overexaggerated version of jazz hands. Castiel snorted a laugh.

"Right. Good call." Castiel took the gloves and slid them on, securing the Velcro straps around his wrists. There was something that was bothering him, though. "You know, speaking of Charlie's rules... I was curious as to how she knew about us sparring, since I didn't mention it to anyone."

Dean shifted his feet nervously and appeared to be avoiding eye contact. "I uh... might have mentioned it... in passing." 

Castiel narrowed his eyes, suspicious that there was more to the story, but he thought it best to just let it go. "Would you like to choose the style?"

"What?" Dean looked thrown by the sudden change in topic.

"The fighting style. What technique would you like to use?" Castiel chose not to mention that he had been educated in several different fighting disciplines since the day he turned six years old. His father intended for his son to be a soldier, so he spared no expense in Castiel's training. He worked with masters in Aikido, Taekwondo, Jeet Kune Do, and had even learned rungu stick fighting from a Maasai warrior. Other than his time in the Air Force, he had never really had the opportunity to apply his skills. To be honest, he was looking forward to using them on Dean... not in a sadistic way, but in a 'display of dominance' kind of way. There was just something about physically dominating someone as strong as Dean that appealed to Castiel's more primal side.

"Well I'm an anything-goes kind of fighter, which is pretty much what MMA is all about," Dean said, strapping on his gloves. He turned and led the way to the mats.

"MMA? Do you compete?" He expected Dean to be more of a street fighter with a few skills honed from his Army training. 

"I've been in a bout or two," Dean answered modestly, but Castiel could tell there was more to it. Dean seemed to be in his element. His body was loose and relaxed, the benchmark of a confident fighter. They took their time stretching and then Dean warmed up by using the heavy bag for a few minutes. Castiel jogged in place while observing Dean's movements, ultimately concluding that he would be a worthy opponent.

Dean finished after a few minutes and nodded toward the octagon. Castiel followed him, enjoying the view of Dean's ass in his shorts. When they reached the center, Dean positioned himself in a fighting stance. "You ready?"

   


"Knock it off, Charlie. I mean it." Dean stepped around her in an attempt to exit the storage closet she cornered him in. His best friend knew him too well and blocked his movement with a tiny hand on his chest.

"Answer the question, Handmaiden. _Do you like him?_ " Shit, she was pulling rank... unfair.

"What is this, middle school? I'm not gonna answer you, so drop it." Dean put all of his energy into looking intimidating, but it was a tactic that never worked on Charlie. He knew he would give in eventually. He couldn’t lie to her, and she would never stop asking if he didn't tell her everything. Charlie was like a bloodhound when she sensed that Dean was keeping something from her. He sighed and slumped back into a shelf as he thrust his hands into his pockets. "I don't know, Char..." 

"Dean... come on. Tell your Queen the truth." As much as Dean wanted to keep it to himself, he also wanted to tell his best friend everything and maybe get some advice. Charlie was the only person he knew that would listen without judgment and give him advice without getting preachy. Dean looked into her kind, green eyes and decided to go for it.

"Okay, fine. Yes, I like him." Charlie started to squeal and Dean clapped and hand over her mouth to shut her up. "Calm down and try not to piss your pants. Just because I like the guy doesn’t mean anything can ever happen between us."

Charlie's face fell. "Why the hell not? You're hot and dreamy, he's hot and dreamy... what else matters?"

"It's not that simple and you know it. My father—"

" _Ugh_... who gives a flying fuck what your old man thinks? He's not here and Castiel is. Even with the remote possibility of your dad finding out, what's the worst that could happen? He disowns you and won't talk to you anymore? How is that different from the relationship you already have?" Charlie looked at him expectantly and Dean frowned as he reflected on her words. She wasn't wrong... and she wasn't saying anything Dean hadn't already thought on his own. He liked how Charlie always asked him the hard questions... but he still didn't know how to answer them.

"I don't have answers for you, Charlie..." Dean replied. Charlie started to speak but Dean cut her off. "But I promise I will think on it. Okay?"

"Okay. In the meantime, what are you going to do?"

"Well for starters, I'm going to kick his ass." Dean chuckled at her scandalized look, satisfied with the response. "Not like that. We're supposed to spar at the gym today. I promise I'll go easy on him since it's the first time."

"You'd better... we all like Cas. If you hurt him with your big gorilla fists, I'll be the one kicking _your_ ass."

"Yeah, yeah, whatever. Now move so I can get back to work, loser." Dean exited the small space and went back to work. Before he knew it, the shift was over and they were in the locker room getting ready to leave. Dean almost choked when Charlie started her speech about the rules. Cas would know he talked to Charlie about him. He gave Charlie a pointed look to make sure she didn't reveal too much. As usual, she caught onto his silent communication and the crisis was averted. A short time later, he was riding in Cas' car and he felt all his stress melt away. It seemed strange to feel that way in Cas' presence, but he often felt more relaxed when they were together. Interacting with Cas was effortless... except when Dean had to make a concerted effort to stop himself from being aroused by the sexy fucker. That part hadn't improved with time.

Later, as they headed to the mats to warm up, Dean informed Cas that he was an MMA fighter. Cas seemed impressed... poor guy. Dean would just have to go easy on him, since he didn't want to hurt Cas too badly. He knew Cas had some training in hand-to-hand combat from the military, but it wouldn't be enough to beat a fighter with the kind of training Dean had. Dean did his usual stretches and then laid a few hits on the heavy bag. He avoided looking at Cas after the guy bent at the waist to touch his toes for the first stretch. Dean was fairly certain Cas didn't do it on purpose, but between the just-fucked hair and the perfectly sculpted ass, the man practically radiated _sex_ all the damn time. Contorting himself in various positions as he stretched just wasn't something Dean could watch while wearing gym shorts.

Dean positioned himself in the octagon and relaxed into his fighting stance. "You ready?"

Cas nodded and adopted a strange posture of his own. It was lower to the ground, both knees bent, his left leg canted back so he rested on the ball of his foot. His arms were completely relaxed in front of him as though he was waiting for something to happen. His face was the very picture of serenity. Dean had never seen anything like it and was thrown off momentarily. He shook his head and launched into his first attack, stepping forward and leaning into his first punch. His right cross was his signature move and never failed to daze his opponent right off the bat... until today.

Cas dodged his punch easily and swirled around him with such speed, Dean nearly missed it. Despite the clear opening to punch Dean right in his kidney, Cas held back. Dean spun around to face him and crouched down into a low roundhouse kick, hoping to knock Cas off his feet... or at least off balance. Instead, Cas sidestepped him completely, falling gracefully into a combat roll that ended with him on his feet. The goddamn ninja moved faster than anyone Dean had ever fought before. Dean wiped the surprise off his face, then sprang back up and started swinging punch after punch, his strength and speed increasing with every breath as he advanced on his opponent. Cas blocked every single one without even breaking a sweat. It was starting to piss Dean off.

A crowd was beginning to gather. Dean saw Rufus out of the corner of his eye and decided it was time to get serious. Just when he was about to land a kick to the side of Cas' head, the man caught his foot mid-air, yanked him forward, threw his own legs around Dean's waist, and had him pinned to the mat before Dean even knew what happened. Flat on his back, he looked up in shock as Cas hovered over him with a smirk on his face. It was an exact reversal of what happened the day they met and he could tell Cas was thinking the same thing. Dean couldn't stop the smile that spread across his face. He should have been pissed, but he was strangely proud of Cas... it was a rare occurrence for someone to best Dean in the ring.

Their audience shouted out good natured insults at Dean, but it didn't bother him. If it had been one of them, Dean would be doing the same thing. Cas shifted his weight back and extended a hand to help Dean up. Dean let himself be pulled to his feet and ended up chest to chest with him. Their eyes met briefly... just long enough to register the spark of desire. Dean stepped back and held out his fists for a congratulatory bump. His mind back on track, he stood there staring at Cas in disbelief. 

"Where the fuck did you learn to fight like that?" Dean took in the sight before him. Cas' damp hair was hanging down over his face and the edges curled on his neck. His skin was shining with perspiration and slightly flushed from exertion. His sweaty t-shirt clung to his chest, showing off his pecs and nipples. Life wasn't fucking fair.

Castiel chuckled as he unfastened one of his gloves. "I'm not sure you want to know. You'll think I cheated."

"Okay, now I have to know." Dean listened with rapt attention as Cas detailed all the training he received while growing up. He could somewhat relate... his own father was a hard-ass and Dean spent a huge part of his childhood trying to please the man. John insisted that his boys learn to become expert marksmen and big game hunters, and any free time he had for them was filled with guns, ammo, and lessons on field dressing the animals they killed. Dean hated every minute of it, but it terrified Sam. His little brother often got yelled at for slapping his hands over his ears to block out the sounds of the hunt. So Dean did what he was best at... he protected Sammy. Whenever he heard John gathering up the rifles, Dean would tell Sam to hide while he pretended to be excited about going hunting. John would eventually get tired of waiting and would take Dean out by himself. If he was sober, it wasn't too bad. But when John drank, Dean would come home with bruises and tear tracks through the dirt on his face.

The final straw for Dean was when he turned eighteen. His father took him to Africa for a father and son trip. In spite of his distaste for hunting, Dean was eager for the opportunity to spend time with his father without constant calls from the hospital needing Dr. Winchester. When his father paid some shady guy to find Dean a male lion to kill on a game preserve, Dean was done. The fight between them had been horrific and almost came to blows, but in the end, Dean flew home by himself and never went hunting with John again. As awful as that was, he couldn't imagine what it must have been like to be treated as nothing more than a soldier. "Holy shit, Cas. That's fucked up... but still a little bit awesome," he joked.

Cas huffed a laugh. "Yes, it's served me well exactly once... today. Totally worth the decades of training." The two men were smiling as they moved to exit the octagon, and the crowd moved away to get back to their own workouts. Dean felt lighter than he had in a long time... despite the fact that Cas just wiped the floor with him. When they hopped down to the floor, Cas paused and turned toward him.

"Dean, I hope I didn't..."

Dean interrupted him, not wanting any apologies for an honest fight. "Forget it, Cas. You won fair and square. Now that I know who I'm dealing with, I'll be better prepared next time," Dean waved him off. His ego was a bit bruised, but he wasn't a sore loser.

"Next time?" Cas looked at him quizzically.

Dean shrugged. "Sure, man. You don't think I'm going to let you get away with wiping the mat with me, do you?" Dean asked as they walked toward the locker room. His brain was already telling him getting in the ring with Cas again would not be a good idea. He had to fight an erection the last few minutes of the fight. Knowing Cas was strong enough to manhandle him so easily was a kink Dean didn't know he had. He couldn't help wondering if Cas was that intense in the bedroom.

"You don't have to prove yourself..."

"I know, Cas," Dean stopped walking and faced him. "It's not about proving myself. MMA is just how I let off steam." He grinned. "And now I have a worthy opponent," he said with a wink. Cas grinned and his blue eyes lit up. Dean's breath caught in his throat at the sight. He turned away before his expression gave him away and entered the locker room so they could change.

As they were leaving, Rufus called out from the other side of the gym. "Hey, Winchester, bring your friend back anytime. It was nice seeing your ass laid out for a change." More raucous laughter from the surrounding men made Dean roll his eyes and he flipped the older man off as the door shut behind them.

On the drive back to Dean's house, Cas turned up the classic rock station when AC/DC's _Back in Black_ came on. It was one of Dean's favorite songs of all time and he nodded his approval. Every now and then, he stole glances at Cas while he was driving. Seeing him like this felt like something that was only for Dean's eyes... the wind whipping through his wild hair... the aviators reflecting the sunlight... the carefree smile on his face... it was too much. Cas was already becoming one of his best friends, but Dean was beginning to struggle with the idea that what he felt for Cas was so much more.

Castiel finished jogging in place and shook out his arms to loosen up, then followed Dean into the octagon. Dean exuded and air of self-assurance as though he knew he was about to win. Castiel found it amusing, but kept himself from showing it. When Dean assumed his fighting stance, Castiel dropped into his own and relaxed his upper body so he would be prepared for anything. He took a deep breath and cleansed his mind of all distractions as he exhaled, just like he'd been taught. He fixed his eyes on his opponent and waited for him to attack.

Dean's opening move was intended to strike hard by using a show of strength to gain the upper hand. Castiel knew better. True strength was found in restraint. Castiel dodged Dean's punch effortlessly and spun around to wait for the next one. Dean's back was wide open, but it was wiser to hold back and let the other fighter tire himself out. Almost immediately, Dean dropped down to kick Castiel's legs out from under him, but Castiel was too quick. He avoided the move and rolled back into a standing position. Under normal circumstances, he might have missed the flash of surprise in Dean's eyes, but he saw it flicker and get replaced by annoyance... maybe a little anger. Castiel had learned to stay focused on his opponent's eyes at all times during a fight. It used to unnerve his fellow soldiers when they were training, but he didn't do it to intimidate... it was strategic. Watching an adversary's eyes is the only way to anticipate their next move.

Dean was faster than Castiel expected and was already back on his feet. He started laying into Castiel with a barrage of punches, one right after the other. Anyone else would have been taken out with such an aggressive approach, but not Castiel. As he blocked each blow with ease, he saw the fire building in Dean's green eyes. It wasn't anger. It was defiance and Castiel loved it. Seeing the strength of Dean's body was remarkable on its own, but the strength he saw in his eyes was _magnificent_. It was almost enough to distract him... almost. Dean stepped back, then swung his leg up with such power, Castiel nearly failed to react in time. His hand darted out on instinct and he caught Dean's leg in a fierce grip, then jerked him forward hard enough to lose his balance. Castiel took advantage of the opening and threw his legs around Dean's waist as he used all his body weight to drive Dean to the floor. Within seconds, Dean was pinned beneath him, his eyes wide with shock.

Castiel smirked down at him and was immediately transported to the day they met. He could see that Dean was thinking the same thing. The smile that lit up Dean's face was so beautiful, it made his heart skip a beat. He didn't want it to get awkward, so he shifted his weight and pulled Dean to his feet. They were too close. He saw his own desire reflected in Dean's eyes for a brief moment, then it was gone.

When Dean asked about his training, Castiel didn't mind telling him about his upbringing. Objectively, his childhood was unhealthy and most likely considered traumatic by most standards. Castiel didn't feel that way because he never knew anything different. To him, it was normal to be raised as a soldier and he never questioned his father's orders. He knew the way he grew up wasn't acceptable, but he didn't feel traumatized or victimized by it. If anything, he felt detached... like he was separate from the mindless soldier he was supposed to become.

As he shared his experiences with Dean, his mind began churning with a sudden realization. Every fight Castiel had ever engaged in was on orders from his father, his trainers, or his commanding officer. This was the first one Castiel participated in because he _chose_ to. The knowledge was exhilarating and liberating in equal measure. Despite all the recent changes in his life, this was the first time Castiel felt truly free. His session with Dean unlocked something in him and he felt lighter and happier than he'd ever been.

Personal epiphanies aside, Castiel was worried that the ribbing Dean was getting from the gathered crowd would upset him and damage their friendship. But Dean didn't seem to mind. He rebuffed Castiel's attempt to apologize and even said he wanted to spar again. It made Castiel feel better that Dean enjoyed the challenge as much as he did.

Dean opened his locker and handed Castiel his keys, wallet, and phone. Together, they moved through the gym and Castiel admired the way Dean let the catcalls and teasing from the others to roll off his back.

He found his way back to Dean's house without instruction and Dean gave him a high-five. "See, you're learning. You'll be finding your way around like a native in no time." Dean put his hand on the door handle and looked like he was going to say something else, but Castiel's phone interrupted. He checked it and saw he had text from a vaguely familiar number. He read it and his expression hardened. Dean cocked his head. "What's up?"

"I've just been called up." He looked up at Dean and continued. "I have to leave in a week."

" _A week_ ," Dean exclaimed. "You just got here. Can't they send someone else? Where is it?" Dean ran fingers through his wind-mussed hair. "Fuck." Castiel knew Dean understood how the military reserve worked, so he didn't bother to answer his first question.

"Syria. They need a medical officer to fill a temporary slot." His heart started beating faster, but he took a few deep breaths before it became full-blown anxiety.

"How temporary?" Dean asked resignedly. Castiel shrugged. His chain of command wouldn't give that information over a text.

"I have to report to the base this afternoon for the details of the assignment." His mind was already cataloging his list of things to do. He'd have to report to Lackland's medical squadron for his deployment readiness evaluation. Then he needed to obtain a copy of his orders for Crowley to keep on file... set up automatic payments for his rent and utilities... pack his gear... all that and still work his shifts until his departure.

Both men sat quietly as the minutes ticked by. Eventually, Dean placed a gentle hand on his shoulder. "Let me know if there's anything I can do to help... God, Crowley is going to shit a brick."

"I know... can't really blame him." By law, the hospital had to hold his position, but it would leave them short-handed. "Hopefully, it won't be for long."

Dean withdrew his hand, then got out of the car and leaned on the door. "We'll be fine, Cas. You just worry about your stuff. If you need anything, let me know. I've got you." Castiel gave him a soft smile before backing out of the driveway.

He took a quick shower and set his alarm so he would have time to get ready before his meeting at the base. It wouldn't be the first time he'd been sent somewhere at a moment's notice, but he never had to leave a friend before. Dean seemed to be frustrated by it, and Castiel felt the same. Dean was right... he just got here. He was finally starting to relax enough to put down roots and he was being yanked away from the life he was trying to build.

After an exhausting afternoon at the base, Castiel got to the hospital and found Lisa to inform her of his deployment. She was understanding and assured him that they'd be fine until he got back, even if some of the interns would have to step up and fill in the gaps. He caught up with Dean just as an ambulance was pulling into the bay. "How'd it go?" Dean asked, his eyes already on the incoming patient.

"I'm going to Manbij for an undisclosed amount of time." The city had a large American presence and his orders were to help out at a joint military medical mission.

"So, it could be two weeks or a year," Dean spat out and Castiel knew his anger wasn't directed at him, but at the situation.

"Dean, you know as well as I do..."

"Yeah, I get it," Dean said quietly and then raced forward to greet the paramedics wheeling in a man covered in blood. "Talk to me, people."

"Pedestrian versus car. Possible pneumothorax. LOC at the scene." Dean steered them into a curtained area while the lead paramedic recited the man's vital signs.

Castiel knew better than to take Dean's reaction personally. Dean was responding like a friend would, and Castiel knew his heart was in the right place. Benny came up to him and slapped a chart against Castiel's chest. "Abdominal pain in Four."

Castiel didn't see Dean much that night. Patients were backing up in the waiting room and when he was finally able to take a break, it was only long enough to gulp down some coffee and eat a bag of potato chips. By the time seven o'clock rolled around, Castiel was exhausted, both mentally and physically. Dean didn't look much better. "Breakfast," he asked when they met by their lockers.

"I can't. I have to see Crowley this morning to give him a copy of my orders." Dean looked disappointed, but clapped him on the back before leaving for home.

The hospital administrator's office was on the eighth floor and Castiel rode the elevator in silent trepidation. When the doors slid open, he took a deep breath and strode down the hall with a confidence he didn't feel. Logically, he knew his job was safe, but he really didn't want to alienate his new boss just weeks after starting his job.

A woman with red hair that was obviously from a bottle looked up from her computer. "Can I help you?"

"I need to see Mr. Crowley."

"Do you have an appointment..." She squinted up at his badge. "...Dr. Novak?"

"No, but this is important. I have orders that require me to leave the country." She looked like she couldn't care less about his plight, but she picked up the phone anyway.

"There's a Dr. Novak here to see you." She paused and listened. "I don't know, something about leaving the country," she said in a tone that made it sound like Castiel was on the run from the law. "Yes, Sir." She hung up and her cool eyes met his. "You can go in," she said as she pointed at a door to her left.

He entered the richly paneled office and met Crowley's glare head-on. "What's this about you leaving the country, Novak?" 

Castiel moved forward and placed the paperwork on the desk. "I have orders and have to report to Lackland on the seventh."

" _Of April?_ " The man's voice rose an octave. "You must be joking."

"No, Sir," Castiel responded. "My deployment is for an undisclosed period of time, but I assure you that I will work here until the last possible second and will let you know as soon as I have a return date." Crowley leaned back in his leather chair and stared at Castiel for at least a minute. Castiel did not fidget or make any moves to show his discomfort.

"This is what I get for hiring military doctors," Crowley finally mumbled. He picked up Castiel's file and touched his intercom button. "Abby, I need some copies made." He turned back to Castiel and leveled him with a steady gaze. "Your job will be here when you return, Novak. Just... don't get yourself killed. Now get out of my office."

Castiel was taken aback by his words as he left for the day. The drive home was a quiet one. He didn't even listen to any music. There was so much to be done, but his mind was fixed on Dean. Would he still have his friend when he returned home? What would his days be like without having his time with Dean to look forward to? Castiel had to admit he was still attracted to the man, but he refused to do anything to jeopardize their friendship. Truthfully, he wanted more and Dean couldn't give that to him right now... maybe not ever. The silver lining of this mission would be getting the distance he needed to place his feelings for Dean in a lockbox before returning to S.A.M.


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Repeat after me... this angst and pain will be temporary... rainbows and unicorns will be coming soon...

Dean's hands were tight on the wheel as he left the hospital. He still couldn't wrap his head around the fact that Cas was leaving. It was fucked up. _Syria_. "Damn it," he muttered. Knowing he was far too wound up to sleep, he headed for the gym.  

Rufus approached him after thirty minutes of taking his frustrations out on the heavy bag. "Someone piss you off?" Dean threw one last punch and bowed his head, sweat dripping off his nose and onto the mat. 

"No. Just blowing off steam," Dean said, his voice devoid of emotion.  

"Hmm. It have anything to do with your friend from yesterday?" Dean's head swung around to face Rufus. 

"What? No... why would you think..." Rufus' raised eyebrow stopped his words. 

"No mistaking the looks you two were giving each other. Any fool would see that there's something between you." 

Dean shook his head vehemently. "No. No. We're just friends." God, the last thing he needed was the guys at the gym thinking he was into dick. A few people from the hospital trained here. It would get back and the rumor mill would have a fucking field day. Unable to lie to the man who had taught him so much over the years, he dropped his voice. "Did anyone say anything?" 

Shaking his head, Rufus said, "These gym rats don't know you like I do. All they saw was some stranger taking Dean Winchester down a peg or two." The sour feeling in the pit of his stomach eased. 

"He just got orders to go to Syria. He leaves Friday." 

"Does he know how you feel?" Two men came over to work out on the punching bags and Rufus motioned him toward his office. Once the door shut behind him, Dean sank into the cracked leather chair on the opposite side of Rufus's old, scarred desk. 

"I don't know. Maybe. But he knows there can't be anything between us. He's not just someone to fuck... he's... he deserves more than that." 

"Seems to me that _you_ deserve more than that," Rufus said, leaning back in his chair to level Dean with an even stare. 

"That's not happening, Rufus. You know my dad." Rufus had crossed paths with John several times over the years. Dean knew the gym owner wasn't impressed with the famous doctor. He was sure that Bobby had filled Rufus in on all the Winchester family secrets. 

"You're what... thirty-six? Thirty-seven?" 

"Thirty-nine," Dean answered. 

"Humph... old enough to tell your daddy to butt out of your life... but that's just my opinion. Let me tell you a story, son." Dean rolled his eyes affectionately despite the seriousness of the conversation. Rufus was known for his long-winded stories. "Back about forty years ago, I was just some grunt in the Army. I got stationed at Fort Rucker, down in Alabama. I met this pretty, young thing. She was sweet and we started sneaking off to see each other." Dean waited for Rufus to finish, but the man looked almost grief-stricken. He took a deep breath and met Dean's eyes. "She was a white girl. Instead of fighting for her, I decided her life would be better off without a complication like me. I stopped meeting her. I didn't return her calls. Forty years... and there ain't never been another. Now, I'm just an old man who goes home to an empty house night after night." 

Dean didn't know what to say. Rufus stood up, his voice back to its gruff tone. "I've got work to do, boy. Go home. Get some sleep."  

He went home, but sleep wouldn't come. Between Charlie and Rufus, he felt torn in two. All the years of being solidly in the closet made it second nature to him. When he craved male companionship, it was only through nameless encounters in seedy bars where he was sure he wouldn't run into anyone he knew.  

He punched the pillow into submission and turned to face the wall. Pictures of him and Sammy covered it. The one family portrait he had was downstairs. It was taken when Dean was just four and Sammy was a baby. John and Mary Winchester didn't have time for sentimental things like that as their sons grew older.   

Eventually, he slept. He dreamed of a dark place. He was on his knees and someone stood over him, beating him. Dean didn't fight back. He was begging, _"Please, just love me."_   

When he awoke, he sat up in bed and rubbed the sleep from his eyes. Who was the shadowy figure? His father? Dean would never again beg for his father's love. Even if he made such a plea, John didn't have it to give.  

As if some supernatural force was in place, Dean's phone rang and his father's number flashed on the screen. He counted the rings until right before the voicemail would pick up. "Hey, Dad." 

"You haven't called your mother in over a month." Dean stared heavenward, praying for patience. There was no _hello_... no _how are you_... nothing but _Dean is a bad son_. 

"Hi, Dad. Nice to hear from you. I'm fine, thanks for asking," Dean said with false sweetness in his voice. His father remained silent, completely ignoring Dean's behavior. He sighed audibly. "The last two times I called her, she was too preoccupied to talk. With her _busy_ schedule, I just figured she could call me when she has a free minute," Dean said, trying to curb his sarcasm. 

His father made a grunt of dismissal of the subject. He passed along his wife's message and didn't really care about the outcome. "I received word that a trauma physician is needed here. I put your name in, so be expecting a call. I spoke to Sam this morning and..." 

"I'm happy here, Dad. I'm not moving to Baltimore."  

"You're _happy?_ Tell me, Dean... what do you have there that makes you so happy? Is it your mediocre job?" John's words were meant to cut like knives and Dean was accustomed to feeling like shit whenever the man spoke. He counted to ten, hoping to calm the boiling rage inside him. It was getting more difficult to keep his temper under control every time he heard his father's voice. He used to react like a scared little kid, too afraid to stand up for himself... but ever since his move to San Antonio, something had shifted in him and he no longer felt afraid of John Winchester. Angry, yes... but not afraid. He gritted his teeth as his father continued his barrage of rhetorical questions. "Maybe it's your girlfriend... oh wait, you don’t have one. What the hell is so great about _San Antonio_ and makes you think you can just ignore an opportunity to advance your career? I ought to—" 

"Dad..." 

"Don't interrupt me when I'm speaking. You need to show me some respect." John was almost shouting and Dean had enough. He was done letting his father speak to him this way. He was a grown-ass man and had more than earned the right to make his own choices. He didn't know what it was that gave him the courage to do it... maybe it was the story Cas told him about his own father and how he stood up to the general. Whatever it was, he finally snapped. 

"No. You listen to me for a change," Dean shouted into the phone. "I live here because it's my home and I like it. I have awesome friends, a fantastic job, and a nice house that I paid for on my own. The best part is that it's far away from you. I'm done following your orders. When you're ready to show _me_ some respect, you know where I'll be." With that, Dean ended the call. His hands started shaking and his chest felt tight. _What did he just do?_  

Dean got to his feet and started pacing, still clutching the phone. A minute or two later, after staving off a full-blown anxiety attack, he called Sam. He needed his brother. He needed someone who knew what his life was like before he joined the military and got out from under his father's thumb. Sam answered on the third ring. "Hey, Dean. What's up?" 

Dean let out a choked sound, then cleared his throat. "I think I fucked up, Sam... real bad."  

"Breathe, Dean. Just... calm down and tell me what happened." Dean told him the whole story and waited for Sam to say something. After a few seconds of silence, Sam burst into laughter. Dean scowled and waited for Sam to pull himself together. "Oh my God, Dean... did you seriously say all of that?" 

"Uh... yeah, I did." Sam started laughing again. "It's not fucking funny, Sam. Dad's gonna be pissed as hell. What the fuck should I do?" Maybe he should try to call Mary. She could always settle John's temper. Then again, his mother wasn't exactly the poster child for good parenting. She may not have been as abusive as John, but Mary's neglect was damaging enough to place her firmly within the ranks of bad mothers. 

"You're joking, right? You don't need to do anything. I've been waiting for this moment for years, Dean. _Years_." 

"I'm glad you find this so amusing, asshole. Did you hear the part where Dad is going to be pissed?" 

"So? He's always pissed. Don't stress yourself out over it. You didn't do anything wrong. The bastard had it coming." Dean had to admit, Sam was right about that. John deserved everything Dean said and more for all the shit he'd put Dean through. Even so, Dean found himself feeling terrified of one possibility that just occurred to him. The fight went out of him and he sat down heavily on the bed. 

"Shit, Sam... What if he comes down here?" He was met with silence. "Don't even say he won't because we both know better." Sam didn't speak right away. Dean knew the memory Sam was thinking about because he remembered it, too. Back when Sam was at Stanford, he was dating a girl named Jess and didn't want to leave her behind when it was time for him to go to medical school. He decided he wanted to stay and get his degree from Stanford, which John Winchester was adamantly against. They fought over the phone and before the week was done, John was standing outside Sam's door making a hideous scene and refusing to leave until Sam packed his shit and left with him. Sam held out as long as he could, but he ultimately gave in when John threatened to cut him off financially. In the end, Sam was forced to leave Jess behind with only a cursory goodbye and a litany of apologies. They tried to stay in touch, but between the long distance and the demands of medical school, their relationship fell apart. Sam was devastated and Dean could only be there for him through Skype since he was overseas at the time. Dean's thoughts of the past were interrupted when Sam let out an angry huff.  

"Let him fucking try it. It won't be the same as last time. For starters, you've got me backing you up here. And we don't need him or his goddamn money anymore." Sam paused. "I'm really proud of you, Dean. It couldn't have been easy to stand up to him, but I'm glad you did it." 

And just like that, Dean felt his heart slow to a healthier rate. Sam was right... they didn't need John anymore. They were free to make their own choices. "Thanks, Sam..."  

"Don't mention it. Like I said, I've got your back, jerk." 

"Whatever, bitch." Dean smiled as Sam hung up. He was grateful for his little brother. Sam seemed to have a gift for knowing what Dean needed to hear when he was at his lowest. Despite being calmer, Dean still felt anxious and resumed his pacing. He went to the bathroom, splashed cold water on his face, and stared into the mirror. When did his personal life become so complicated? Grunting in frustration, he turned on the shower and stepped under the stream. The hot water felt good on his sore body. Sparring with Cas really did a number on him and the memory of Cas pinning him to the mat made him smile in spite of his stress.  

He made a quick dinner of leftover chicken and headed for the hospital. He pulled in just behind Cas. "Heya, Cas." His friend smiled and said hello, but Dean saw the fatigue on his face. "Did you even sleep today?" 

"I got a couple of hours. There is just so much to get done." 

"How did Crowley take your news?" The two men began walking toward the ER entrance as they talked. 

"As expected. He wasn't happy, but he did tell me not to get myself killed. I guess that's a good thing, huh?" Cas glanced over at Dean, his expression quizzical. 

"For Crowley, that's right up there with swapping BFF bracelets. Are you his best friend now, Cas?" Cas responded by punching Dean in the shoulder, causing him to stumble sideways. "Oh, real nice, Cas. Use your words, not your fists," Dean laughed as he dodged another swipe. Cas was smiling now, and Dean liked knowing he was the one to pull his friend out of his funk. He still wasn't okay with Cas leaving, but he wasn't about to waste the little bit of time they had left.  

They pushed open the door to the locker room and thankfully, it was empty. Dean turned to look at Cas and got serious. "Let me help. I can run errands, make phone calls... whatever you need." Cas' weary eyes softened and the sweet smile he gave made Dean's stomach flutter.  

"Thank you, Dean. You have no idea how much that means to me." Just being around Cas made Dean feel better about his life and his decision to stand up to his father. The tension from the phone call was still gnawing at his insides, but not nearly as bad now. 

"That's what friends are for, right?" They stowed their stuff in their lockers and met in the break room for a cup of coffee before the shift started. Dean's broken mug had been replaced with one that just said _Dean_ in black letters. He got it at the hospital's Christmas Party last year from one of the nurses in Labor and Delivery. She'd written his name on it with a Sharpie. Cas' mug was yellow with a bee on it that said _Bee Happy_. And it wasn't cute... not even when Cas had gone on a tirade about the potential extinction of the honey-making insects. 

The night shift was insane... there were several major car accidents and even a patient with a snake bite. He and Cas took on that one together. Dean thought it was awesome that their work dynamic was as cohesive as their friendship. They were on the same page with their approach to the patient's treatment and moved in perfect rhythm while they worked. Dean was too busy to dwell on the phone call from his father and for that, he was thankful. He finally got a break around midshift and pulled Cas away from his charts to go to the cafeteria with him. Cas pulled out his iPhone and showed Dean his pre-deployment task list. It was a lot to get done in just a few days. "Why don't we go home after our shift and grab some shuteye? Then I'll come to your place around three and we can mark some of these off. I'll check all your gear and pack it while you set up the auto-pay for your utilities and rent. Then if there's time, we'll order some pizza and make fun of medical shows before work. How's that sound?"  

"Dean, I can't ask you to use your free time to..." 

"Shut up, Novak. You'd do the same for me." Dean had no doubt about that. 

"I would," Cas said softly. They spent the rest of their dinner break talking about the snake bite victim and the treatments they would use for different species. Dean liked talking shop with Cas. Most of his friends were from the hospital, but none of them wanted to talk about work unless it was absolutely necessary. Dean was just the opposite... he loved discussing rare and challenging cases just for the fun of it. Knowing Cas enjoyed it as much as he did only added to the list of reasons why he was going to miss his friend when he was gone.  

 

 

The days seemed to run together. Dean turned out to be a godsend when it came to the preparation for his deployment. Their mutual day off was spent at the base buying extra t-shirts and supplies for his tour.  

By Thursday afternoon, his nerves were frayed. He'd be on a flight by this time tomorrow. Only one more shift to go. His phone pinged as he finished cleaning out his refrigerator of perishable items. The only things left were a six pack of Dean's favorite beer and a few bottles of water.  

 **Text from Dean/4:45 – Gym? Stress relief?**  

Castiel couldn't wait to text him back. He needed to get out of the apartment. 

 **Text to Dean/4:47 – When?**  

 **Text from Dean/4:48 – 30?**  

 **Text to Dean/4:49 – See you there.**  

He quickly changed into shorts and a t-shirt, grabbed his keys, and jogged down the flight of steps to the ground floor. He entered the gym's address into his phone's GPS since he knew the route from Dean's house, but not from his place.  

When he pulled up, he frowned. The parking lot was empty. On closer inspection, he saw the sign on the door. _Closed_. He was about to call Dean when the big, black car swung in beside him. He waited until Dean was out of the car before speaking. "It's closed," he said, stating the obvious. 

Dean looked nonplussed. "Yeah, it's Thursday. Rufus and Bobby go fishing on Thursdays." Dean wiggled his key ring in front of Castiel's nose. "We'll have the place to ourselves." 

"Nice," Castiel said with a grin and followed Dean to the door. While the place still smelled of old sweat, it was eerily quiet. Dean flipped a series of switches and the industrial lights flickered on. With no one around to mess with their things, they didn't bother going to the locker room. 

As before, Dean handed him his extra gloves and he put them on before walking over to the mat to warm up. Castiel put himself through his stretches and then loosened up by jogging in place. Dean took a more aggressive approach. He struck the heavy bag again and again, then moved on to several high kicks. Castiel loved watching the coordinated motion of Dean's body. He wasn't a gym rat. His body was a bit soft in the middle, but his arms, chest and legs were toned. Dean faced him. "Ready?" 

"Ready," Castiel replied. 

"Better be on your toes, Novak. I'm going to kick your scrawny ass." 

"My ass is far from scrawny, Dean." Castiel presented said ass for Dean's review. "This ass is perfection." 

Dean scoffed and slapped it hard enough to make Castiel squeal, which had Dean laughing. "Time to get that _perfect_ ass in the ring, dude." They stepped into the octagon and Castiel rolled his head, working out the kinks in his neck. Dean assumed his stance and Castiel took his time to get into position. He watched Dean roll his eyes. "We ain't got all day..." 

Castiel's swift move had Dean on his back. " _Oomph._ " He gazed up at Castiel and he just grinned. "Oh, I see how it's gonna be..." 

Backing up a few steps, Castiel waited for Dean to get to his feet. "Come on, Winchester, _we ain't got all day_ ," he said mockingly. He saw the challenge flare in Dean's eyes before he charged. Castiel backed up instead of stepping aside and he crashed into the chain-link fence, Dean pressed against him. He grabbed onto the fence for leverage, swung both legs to lock around Dean's waist, then launched his body weight to the side, throwing them both to the ground. Before Dean could get any leverage to flip them over, Castiel grabbed his arm and locked it behind his head. Dean tapped the mat twice for Castiel to release him, and they both got back on their feet and stood in the center of the octagon, eyes narrowed as they plotted their next moves. Under the harsh glare from the lights, Dean's freckles stood out and Castiel found himself mesmerized by them. Dean must have picked up on his lack of concentration and landed a kick to his right shoulder.  

Castiel absorbed the hit and feinted left. Dean shifted his eyes to follow the movement and Castiel came in low, lifting Dean off his feet and he went down again. Before he could get out of range, Dean shot his leg out and swept Castiel's legs out from under him. The second Castiel's back hit the floor, Dean was on him, one arm on his chest and one leg wrapped around both of Castiel's. He was well and truly pinned in place and couldn't move. "Hoo-ah," Dean shouted in triumph. Castiel groaned at the Army's go-to affirmative. 

Both men were breathing hard, but neither were winded. Castiel's eyes moved over Dean's face again, finally alighting on his lips. Dean's smile slowly faded and his eyes darted to Castiel's mouth for a brief second before getting to his feet again. Castiel paused to turn his arousal into adrenaline and reverse-flipped to his feet, ready for more. Dean let out a grunt and waited for Castiel's next attack. Instead of making a move, he set an unwavering gaze on Dean and slowly removed his gloves, tossing them aside one at a time. Dean followed his lead and removed his, then cracked his knuckles before raising his hands up in a defensive posture.  

Castiel circled him slowly like a lion stalking its prey. In a flash of motion, Castiel launched into a jump spinning back kick and hit his mark in the chest. Dean should have gone down, but he didn't. He staggered, then sprang forward and hooked his right arm around Castiel's neck, jumped into the air, and used his entire body weight to bring them both down. Castiel grappled out of the move, but Dean was too quick. Once again, he found himself looking up into Dean's eyes. It seemed that no matter how hard he tried to avoid it, Castiel kept ending up here. His eyes bored into Dean's and their bodies were trembling with restraint.  

He couldn't say who moved first, but the next thing he knew, their mouths were crashing together in a fierce kiss... teeth clashing... tongues invading. Strong hands slid under Castiel's shirt and he groaned into Dean's mouth as he clenched his fist in Dean's hair. Castiel tightened his grip, then rolled them over as he ground his hips into Dean's hardening cock. The moan that escaped Dean's mouth went straight to Castiel's dick and he sat up and pulled Dean's shirt over his head before taking care of his own. Sitting astride Dean, Castiel paused to gaze at the sight before him. Dean was glorious. His golden skin was shining with sweat that rolled down his chest and sides. His eyes blazed with unrestrained passion and something else Castiel couldn't name. Seeing Dean like this felt like something special... something that only belonged to Castiel. He refused to let himself think that this was the only time he would get to have it, but the fleeting thought sent a wave of possessiveness through him. 

Castiel grabbed the back of Dean's neck and pulled him into a kiss that sent waves of electricity shooting down to his fingertips. He felt the exact moment Dean let himself go... his body relaxed for a moment, then like an explosion, Dean was everywhere. His hands moved up and down Castiel's back, his lips left a trail of hot kisses and licks down his neck, and his hips thrust up furiously as they chased the delicious friction between them. He pawed at Castiel's shorts and yanked them to midthigh before pulling his own down just enough to set his throbbing erection free. The two men gasped as their cocks slid together, touching for the first time.  

Castiel felt Dean's fingers run lightly through his hair and the tenderness of the gesture made his throat tighten. Their eyes met and Castiel saw a brief flash of hesitation. His instincts told him to back off and give the other man space, but he just couldn't do it. Instead, he cupped Dean's face and gently caressed his cheek with his thumb. Dean leaned into the gesture and closed his eyes. He breathed deeply, then opened eyes that were filled with want. He flipped them over so he was on top of Castiel,  then slid his hand down and wrapped it around both their erections. Castiel closed his arms around Dean as he let out a breathless moan and threw his head back, leaving his throat exposed. Dean wasted no time and dove in to lick a long, wet trail from his chest to just under his chin. The sensations were overwhelming and when he clenched his hands enough to leave scratches, Dean gasped. _"Fuck..."_   

The heat between them was almost too much as the sweat made their bodies slide against each other. Dean released his hold on their cocks and moved down Castiel's body until his mouth closed around the head of Castiel's dick, then kept going until his face was pressed against his bush. It took every ounce of self-control to keep himself from coming. Dean's mouth felt amazing and Castiel wanted to give him the same pleasure. He reached down and pushed Dean away enough to shift his own body around until his head rested between Dean's legs. He heard Dean moan as he ran his tongue from the base of Dean's cock to the tip, then a much louder groan when he swallowed the entire length down. He lost himself in the feeling of Dean's soft, wet mouth on him. Their explorations started out slow, but then they were sucking each other like there was no tomorrow. Hands held his ass in a tight grip as he palmed Dean's sac, tugging slightly as he tongued the underside of his cock. Dean's hips jerked forward, then stilled until Castiel grabbed him by the hip and forced Dean to thrust deep into his throat. He felt the vibrations of Dean's moans around his own hardness as he relaxed his throat and allowed Dean to fuck into his mouth without restraint.  

As his own orgasm built, he felt Dean's thrusts become erratic. Castiel knew Dean was close. He pressed his thumb against Dean's hole and rubbed at the tight muscle. Dean's mouth tightened around his cock and his hips bucked once, twice, and then he was swallowing Dean's load. Castiel felt his balls tighten and a strangled cry escaped as he came into Dean's perfect mouth. He willed his muscles to relax and flexed his neck as they both tried to catch their breath. Dean moved first, slowly rolling off of Castiel and landing with a soft thud on the mat.  

Castiel wanted to say something, but his mind was blank. Silently, Dean got to his feet and began to dress. Castiel followed suit and the silence between them seem to stretch into what felt like eternity. Castiel began to worry that Dean regretted what they had done. Just when he was about to say something, Dean stepped closer and pulled him into a soft, chaste kiss. He pulled away, his eyes already off in the distance as he stepped out of the octagon.  

Castiel had no choice but to follow. They gathered their things and Dean led the way to the door, methodically shutting down the lights and locking the gym. As they walked to their cars, Castiel's heart sank lower and lower. He knew Dean was regretting what they'd done.  

At the Impala, Dean finally met his eyes. "Cas, I..." Dean started, but Castiel didn't want any words right now. All he wanted was Dean... to hold him and touch him just a little longer before he had to leave.  

"Shh... you don't have to say anything," Castiel said softly. He didn't want to hear about mistakes or regrets. Not now. Maybe later, after their shift... they could go have breakfast and sort this out. He had to have faith that this meant something to Dean and that he wasn't just a meaningless hook-up.  

Dean nodded his answer and they stood there, standing in each other's personal space, eyes locked. Not for the first time, he wished he could read Dean's thoughts. Castiel leaned in and kissed him quickly before he got into his car. As he drove away, he looked in the rearview mirror and saw that Dean hadn't moved from where they'd been standing. He hoped with everything in him that the sinking feeling in his stomach was due to his impending departure and not something else.  

 

 

 

Dean stood rooted to the spot, still feeling dazed from what just happened. He and his best friend just had sex. His best friend... the guy he carried a torch for since the day he met him more than five years ago. His legs felt weak. He opened the door to the Impala and sat down on the old, comforting leather. He rested his head on the steering wheel and closed his eyes, his mind reliving the last thirty minutes in vivid detail.   

Sparring with Cas had been incredible... and fun, despite the growing arousal he felt at the close proximity. He smelled so good and the way he moved was hands-down the hottest thing Dean had ever seen. By the time he saw his desire reflected in those beautiful blue eyes, he couldn't hold back any longer. Their lips met and the first thing Dean thought was _holy fuck, I'm kissing Cas_. The second thought he had was how right it felt... how perfectly they fit together. He couldn't get close enough, couldn't kiss him enough... he wanted more, so much more. He'd all but ripped their shorts off and almost came on the spot when he felt the delicious slide of skin when their cocks met. Even now, sitting in his car in an empty parking lot, he still smelled Cas on his skin... still tasted him on his tongue... 

 _Did he regret what they did?_ No, he could honestly say he didn't regret a single second... and if he could go back, he would do it all over again. But where did they go from here? He already told Cas a relationship was impossible. John Winchester might not hold the purse strings anymore, but he was still capable of making Dean feel like shit. Even though he was learning how to keep John from having that kind of power over him, he didn't want to make a decision that would end up putting Cas in his father's sights. He didn't care what John did to his career, but Cas was a different story. John Winchester was not above maligning someone to get his way. Hands shaking, he put the car in reverse and backed out. No, he couldn't drag Cas into his life. When Cas came back from Syria, Dean would do his best to pick up their friendship where it left off. Until then, he had one more shift to get through. 

He timed his arrival for the shift to avoid meeting Cas in the locker room. When he emerged and saw Cas talking to Benny, he gave him a smile and a wave... business as usual. Dean found himself volunteering to do the types of cases that usually went to the interns. By keeping busy, Dean didn't have to talk to Cas much. He wanted to... more than he cared to admit. But whenever he headed in Cas' direction, the image of Cas getting fired because of John's vindictive nature popped into his head. When they met at the nurse's station, Dean pretended the evening's events never happened. They were just two guys talking about work stuff, because that was the safest topic he knew. He didn't want to think about the hurt in Cas' eyes. 

Midway through the shift, Jo pulled him into the breakroom and opened the supply cabinet with a flourish. Wedged in front of the bags of cheap coffee and boxes of powdered creamer, was a white cake box. "We thought we'd give him a proper send-off," she said, tilting the box so Dean could read _Godspeed, Castiel_.  

He gave her a tight smile. "Yeah, he'll appreciate it." She closed the cabinet and gave him a searching look. He spun on his heels and headed for the door. He couldn't do this. He couldn't let his feelings get in the way... and he damn sure couldn't talk about them with Jo. He went back to burying himself in his work.  

A few patients later, Dean started yawning and decided it was a good time for coffee. His first impulse was to ask Cas if he wanted to grab a cup... but then he remembered why he couldn't do that and his heart sank. He checked to make sure Cas was busy and saw him disappear behind a curtain to tend to a sick baby. Dean made his way to the breakroom and took comfort in the fact that he was alone. He had just taken his first sip when the door swung open. He looked up to find Cas' eyes boring into him. 

"You've been avoiding me all night, Dean." 

"What? No, I haven't. I've been busy... with... patients." Damn, he sounded like a moron. Cas' expression showed that he knew Dean was lying.  

"You're a terrible liar, Dean," Cas said, his voice resigned. He moved to the coffee pot and poured a cup. Dean watched him doctor it with powdered creamer and enough sugar to give someone diabetes.  

"Cas..." Dean started, but what could he say? _I loved sucking your cock, but it can never happen again because I have daddy issues_. Instead, he said nothing. 

"Save it, Dean. I'd say your behavior surprises me given the fact that you're my best friend... but the truth is, it doesn't. What else could I expect from a closet case?" Dean felt the sting of Cas' words as if it was a physical blow. Cas' face was schooled to a blank expression, but Dean could see the pain hiding behind the anger. It would have been wise for Dean to take a step back and respond with the kindness and compassion he owed Cas. Dean has never considered himself to be a wise man, but he knew treating Cas the way he deserved would only make it harder for him to keep him at arm's length. So, Dean did what he does best... he got angry. 

"You know what, Cas? Fuck you. You think you know everything because we hung out a couple of times? Well, you don't know shit about my life... and you don't know me." Dean turned his back on Cas. He couldn't bear to see the hurt he caused. He thought what he said was enough to make Cas leave. He was wrong. When Cas spoke, he was so close it made Dean jump. 

"Oh, I know you, Dean. I know that you'll fuck anything with a pulse, but your bed is so lonely, you can't stand to be in it longer than you have to be. I know that you spend every waking moment of your life trying to control your words, your body movements, all of it... just to make sure nobody finds out the truth. And I know you're too filled with fear to leave any room for happiness." Cas grabbed his arm and spun him around. His face inches from Dean's, he spat, "I know you because _I was you_." 

Dean felt like the room was spinning. Everything Cas said was true and it hit him hard like a punch to the gut. He wanted nothing more than to grab Cas and pull him into his arms. But he couldn't. His own happiness wasn't as important as protecting Cas. With everything he had, Dean turned his face to stone and looked Cas right in the eyes.  

"You done? Because I sure as hell am." With that, Dean turned and left the room, doing his best to focus on anything other than the feeling of his heart ripping in two.  

As the sun began to rise, the ER waiting room thinned out and Benny rounded everyone up. "Dean, go grab Cas and bring him to the breakroom. Don't spoil the surprise."  

"Can you get someone else to do that? I've got to... uh... talk to Lisa about... a coding question." Christ, where the fuck did that come from? Surely, he could have come up with something more convincing. Benny eyed him suspiciously, but did as he asked. Dean didn't want to watch his co-workers and friends say goodbye to Cas. He didn't want to stand around and eat cake, knowing how badly he had fucked everything up. Patients he could fix, but what he'd done to Cas... there weren't enough bandages in the world to repair the damage. 

Dean went into the locker room before the end of his shift to get his personal belongings. He tucked his phone, wallet, and keys into the pockets of his scrubs. He didn't want to run the risk of being alone with Cas... he wasn't sure he could keep his emotions in check knowing he wouldn't see him again for a long time. As the day shift took over, everyone from the night shift waited near the exit for Cas. Dean stood in the back near the edge of the crowd.  

"You should tell him how you feel about him before he leaves," Charlie said from beside him.  

"He's just a friend," Dean stated emphatically. _But he wasn't even that anymore..._

"He's more than that and you know it," Charlie said softly and Dean turned to look down at her. "The night my parents were killed..." She stopped and Dean could see she was trying to keep her feelings at bay. She never talked about that time, and he could only imagine how hard this was for her. He didn't understand why she wanted to talk about it now. "The night they were killed, I got mad because they wouldn't let me go to a party... a stupid party. I yelled at them." She got a faraway look in her eyes. "I never got to tell them I was sorry or that I loved them... I never got to say goodbye." She looked up at Dean and he drew in a deep breath once he understood what she was getting at. 

"I'm sorry, Char," he said, knowing the words sounded trite compared to the gravity of her words. "I get what you're trying to say... but this is different." Her expression hardened and Dean knew she was disappointed in him. "I just can't."  

Cas appeared and everyone moved forward to give him hugs, but Dean held back. The one time their eyes met, Cas' were cold and empty. Like the coward he was, Dean escaped and headed for home. The too-familiar feeling of self-loathing crept over every inch of him. He _cared_ about Cas. He had sex with his best friend and instead of dealing with it, he let John Winchester destroy any chance of them being together. Dean had dreamed of the man for five years and the time spent with Cas over the past few weeks had been the happiest in his life. As he walked into his empty house, Dean mourned the loss of what might have been if he'd only been different. But it was too late... Cas was done with him. 

 

 

 

Charlie checked her phone for the seventh time in the last two minutes. Dean was supposed to pick her up since her car was in the shop. He was already ten minutes late and that wasn't like Dean... not at all. Frowning, she tried calling him again as her frustration turned to worry. Stepping back inside her duplex, she called an Uber and went back outside to wait.  

She paced the sidewalk in front of her house. She knew Castiel's departure affected Dean more than he let on. And the way they were avoiding each other after being attached at the hip... No, something happened between them and it was bad. Real bad. 

The driver was close and within ten minutes, she was on her way to Dean's house. On the way, she called the hospital to let them know she'd be late. She sent a silent prayer to Frigga that Dean just forgot her and was on his way into work.  

When she saw the Impala in the driveway, her spidey senses began to tingle. This wasn't good. She settled up with the driver and sprinted to the front door. She knocked and rang the bell twice. Nothing. She dug into her messenger bag and pulled out her key ring. It took her a few seconds to locate the spare key to Dean's house. She unlocked the door and pushed it open cautiously. 

The smell hit her and she gagged. "Shit. Dean... _Dean_..." She yelled, but she didn't hear a reply. Panicking, she crossed the threshold and scanned the living room. She saw a pair of boots still attached to jean-clad legs. She raced over expecting... she didn't know what she was expecting... but it wasn't her best friend lying in a pool of his own vomit. She knelt down and shook him. He let out a pitiful moan and she sighed in relief. "Dean, wake up." He groaned and turned his head away from her.  

He reeked of alcohol and her initial worry turned to anger. She rose and headed for his kitchen. An empty bottle of bourbon sat on the counter. She threw it into the trashcan with a little more force than necessary. Since she knew Dean's house as well as her own, she found the big pitcher they used for Sangria right where it was supposed to be. Filling it with cold water, she went to add to the mess that was already on the floor of Dean's living room.  

Dean cried out and gasped when the cold water was poured over his head. Charlie felt a jolt of satisfaction. Eyes now open, she could see they were bloodshot. "You, my friend, are a dumbass." 

"God... Damn it, Charlie. What the fuck?" He moved to sit up and grimaced when he discovered the vomit. He did manage to look sheepish, but Charlie was far from finished.  

"Get your ass up and get in the shower. Shift starts in ten minutes. I will call to tell them you'll be late." He slowly got to his feet and staggered down the hall. Being the best friend on the planet, Charlie found the mop and began to clean the disgusting floor.  

She was dumping the nasty water out the back door when Dean appeared in his scrubs. He still looked like death warmed over. He opened the fridge and took out a bottle of water. She waited until he chugged half of it down before speaking. "This is about Cas."  

"Charlie..."  

"That wasn't a fucking question, Winchester. You finally met someone who could take all your bullshit and love you anyway and.... and you just let him walk away. You let him leave the country... _Syria_ , Dean. They have bad shit going on there. How do you expect me to pick up the pieces if something happens to him?" 

Dean blinked and looked away. Charlie knew her words had hit their mark. In true Dean Winchester fashion, he zeroed in on that _one_ word. "He doesn't love me." He sounded so raw that Charlie wanted to comfort him, but she had to be the strong one here. Even though her heart ached for her best friend, she knew when Dean needed tough love instead of a hug.  

"You never gave him the chance," she said softly. She wanted to take the words back when she saw the devastated look of grief on Dean's face. The water bottle flew across the room and crashed against the wall. He bent forward and braced his hands on his knees while pulling in shallow, rapid breaths.   

"My dad..." He managed to get out between pants. He was beginning to hyperventilate and Charlie stepped closer. She grabbed the front of his shirt with both hands and hauled him upright.  

"Fuck your dad," she hissed. "You need to fix this." 

"He's gone, Charlie." The single tear that ran down his cheek about did her in. He was looking at her as if she held all the answers. She pulled him close and whispered soothing words until he drew a shaky breath and broke the embrace. "Come on, Red. Time to get to work." 

She knew Dean had reached his limit of chick-flick moments. She didn't ask if he was okay. He wasn't. She couldn't fix this, but she was going to be there each step of the way. Dean would need her in the weeks to come. She shuddered at the thought of seeing Dean on the floor again and began to worry about how she was going to keep him sober while Cas was gone.  

 

 


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The angst continues, but don't fret....
> 
> There is some war-type violence and graphic details about an injury in this chapter.

Castiel opened his eyes as the C-130 touched down. He slept for most of the thirteen-hour flight, but he was far from rested. His dreams had been plagued with images of Dean walking away and no matter how hard he tried, he could never get close enough to touch him. It was unsettling and left him feeling anxious. The cargo door opened as he slung his rucksack over his shoulder and picked up his duffle bag. He was aware of the other soldiers talking and joking around, but he wasn't paying attention. He had to get his shit together... Syria was a dangerous place and he couldn't afford to let his mind wander. 

Finally off the plane, they were ushered to a small building that served as a temporary headquarters. An Army sergeant greeted them and motioned for them to gather for an in-briefing. The size of their group was not what Castiel expected. There had only been seven other soldiers on Castiel's flight... two surgeons, three nurses, and two infantrymen. He wondered what kind of mission would require such a small force. 

They took seats and all eyes turned to the major standing in the front of the room. "First, let me tell you that this assignment is highly classified." He paused to let that sink in. Castiel tilted his head in confusion. Medical personnel didn't usually get involved in classified missions. "You were brought here because you are all the best at what you do." The sergeant switched on a projector and the mission info appeared onscreen. "This is Farid Mahdi. He is one of us. He recently infiltrated Al Qaeda on an intelligence gathering mission." The screen changed to an image of the patient's heart. "Last month, he was injured in an IED attack and as you can see from his scan, there is a piece of shrapnel lodged in his left ventricle. He has been on ECMO, but he is running out of time. You are here to do the transplant." Castiel glanced at the two surgeons. He was a trauma physician. What did he have to offer? "I cannot emphasize this enough... Mahdi is a high-value asset and his identity must be protected at all costs. You have been given clearance to use this room and this room only for assessment and consultation. When you're ready, Sergeant Myers will show you to your quarters. Get some sleep and tomorrow morning you will meet your patient. That is all."

The major left them to begin their consult and after a couple of hours, they had a treatment plan and assigned responsibilities for the procedure. Feeling confident in their strategy, they all stood and shouldered their gear. The sergeant directed them to the exit, where they were met by a female Airman. She led them to a makeshift barracks that was surrounded by metal outbuildings, one of which was designated as medical. Castiel dumped his bags at the foot of a bunk and sat down heavily. One of the cardiothoracic surgeons chose the cot next to his. His name was Roche. On the plane, Castiel learned he was born in France and had a wicked sense of humor. "Well, this has been an interesting turn of events."

Castiel nodded. "I still don't get why I'm here."

Roche shrugged. "Cooper and I are the transplant surgeons, but have never been in a combat situation before. From what I understand, we won't exactly have a state of the art OR. This is a field hospital in a hot zone, and you have experience working under threat in less-than-ideal conditions. I'm guessing it's your job to make sure we don’t run around like Chicken Little if the bullets start flying." 

It made sense, he supposed. They all headed to the mess hall to eat a late dinner before turning in for the night. With a full stomach, Castiel left the group to take a quick walk and clear his head. The entire area was fenced and surrounded by Concertina wire, and there were guards stationed at regular intervals around the perimeter. He stayed well away from the edge in case it was electrified. With his head down and eyes on his feet, he allowed himself to think about Dean. The argument they had was eye-opening and confirmed Castiel's fears. Dean was never going to be comfortable with coming out of the closet and Castiel refused to go back in. It hurt... deeply... but it was better that it happened early on in their relationship. Castiel had already become too attached to someone he knew he couldn't have. It was better this way. Now he could move on from the fantasy of Dean Winchester and perhaps find someone who would be brave enough to date him openly.

Castiel didn't see the man in front of him until it was too late and he ran smack into his chest with a grunt. "Excuse me, I am so sorry..." He trailed off as his eyes registered the face before him. Green eyes, soft lips, strong jaw... this couldn’t be happening. Standing before him was the one man he'd been with since moving to San Antonio... laundry room guy. The patch on his chest read Alister.

The captain's face registered shock. "Holy shit..."

"My sentiments exactly," Castiel said, gathering his thoughts. What was the proper etiquette for greeting the nameless man who fucked you?

Alister reached out and touched the rank on Castiel's lapel. "You never told me you were military, Captain Novak," he said, reading the name patch.

Castiel shrugged and gave him a crooked smile and decided to go for a lighthearted tone. "We didn't exactly do a lot of talking, if I recall..." 

They studied each other for a few seconds before he spoke. "Guess you just arrived on the last incoming flight since I haven't seen you around before."

"Yes, I'm... it's classified," Castiel mumbled. The handsome man tilted his head and laughed, which reminded him of the strong attraction between them. Castiel swallowed hard. Maybe he could help Castiel forget... or at least be the first step in moving on.

"I know. I'm in charge of the medical unit here. Mahdi is actually my patient... we just didn't have the personnel to swing this kind of surgery."

"You're a doctor?" Castiel was dumbstruck.  


The man's smile was infectious and he couldn't help but return it. "Guess we should have talked a little more."

"Weren't you supposed to go to Kabul?" 

Captain Alister raised his eyebrows. "You remembered. I'm impressed." Castiel noted that he never answered his question, but decided to let it go. This probably wasn't the man's first classified mission. They strolled over to an area with some rickety lawn chairs and spent the evening getting to know each other. Castiel found out the captain's name was Drew and he was also a Ranger. "So, you're on staff at S.A.M., huh? How do you like it?"

"I just started work there. It's a good place to work..." He looked away and Drew nudged his elbow.

"But?"

"But... I'm not sure I will be staying there for long." He gave Drew a rueful smile. "I made the mistake of mixing business with pleasure. Going back will be... uncomfortable."

"Fell for the wrong guy?" Drew seemed genuinely interested.

"You could say that... but he isn't the wrong guy. He's perfect. Except for the fact that he's deep in the closet and I can't go there again. I fought too hard to become someone I could be proud of." He found himself wanting to tell Drew all about Dean. "We met a long time ago in Afghanistan. There was definitely a spark, but we didn't have time to act on it. Then I moved to San Antonio and my first day on the job, I walked in and there he was. It was a total shock. The attraction was still there, but he told me up front there could be nothing but friendship between us. I thought I was okay with that." 

Drew nodded in understanding. "But you weren't?"

"I really was, actually. We clicked right away, hung out almost every day, had a lot in common... he was the best friend I ever had."

"Was?"  


"Yes. We... Well, I don't want to go into details, but something happened between us... and it was incredible. Then he acted like we didn't..." Talking about sex with someone you've slept with wasn't as easy as he thought. "We fought the morning I left. It was bad... and I not only lost the guy I'm crazy about, I also lost my friend."

Drew looked down at his hands for a minute and seemed to come to a decision. "Listen... Do you remember when I said I had my reasons for hooking up with you?" Castiel nodded. "Well, until very recently, I was so deep in the closet I was in Narnia. I had someone... he was a lot like you... out and proud. When I crossed paths with you, I was not in a good place. He had just broken up with me because I couldn't... wouldn't..." He stopped and gave Castiel a sad look. "I didn't want to be the gay guy... the gay doctor... the gay soldier. It sounds stupid, but sometimes it takes someone special to drag you out. Even if they have to do it kicking and screaming." His eyes softened and he smiled. "That's what Rick did for me."

"I guess I wasn't special enough," Castiel said softly. 

"Then he's an idiot."

Castiel chuckled and decided to change the subject. "So, tell me about your man." Drew went on to tell the story about how he arrived here and ended up on a detail with his ex. They talked and Drew decided he wouldn't let Rick go a second time. The whole thing reminded Castiel of his own saga with Dean... only his didn't have a happy ending. 

The next few days were stressful. The operation was a success, but the patient still needed around-the-clock care. Once he was out of the woods and the anti-rejection meds kicked in, Castiel would be allowed to go home. He was still toying with the idea of contacting Boston to see if he could get his old job back. It would mean facing the General again, but being around Dean day after day... he just didn't think he was strong enough. 

Drew made the evenings more bearable. He introduced Castiel to Lieutenant Rick Lincoln, Drew's boyfriend, and the three of them sometimes pulled Roche into impromptu poker games or movie nights. Overall, it wasn't entirely unpleasant... on the contrary, Castiel found it a welcome break from the issues at home. 

Unfortunately, he had nowhere to run when he was lying in his bunk at night. He tossed and turned, imagining what Dean might be doing... and who he was doing it with. Once he was asleep, the dreams came. Dean walking away, Dean rejecting him, Dean with a woman in his arms... those were horrible. But sometimes he would have others where Dean smiled that cocky smile of his and ran into his arms, held his hand at the grocery store, or kissed him in public. Those dreams were the worst because he felt so much happiness, only to wake to the reality that they could never come true. Then a grief unlike anything he'd ever felt would pierce through him and leave him feeling depressed. He longed for the day when he could forget Dean... and he dreaded it at the same time.

Thankfully, Charlie didn't talk to him on the way to the hospital. It had been years since he drank enough to pass out and he hadn't woken up in his own vomit since his college days. He was embarrassed that Charlie had to find him like that. Head still throbbing, he pretended everything was fine and took his first patient. The hours passed and Dean lost himself in the endless stream of illness and injuries.

The days seemed to run into each other. He worked, came home to stare at the walls, and started it all over again. He drank, but not enough to wind up on the floor. When he did sleep, he was plagued with dreams of Cas... smiling at him in that breathtaking way... looking down at him with that smug expression after pinning him to the mat... the feeling of those soft, pink lips on his own. Sometimes his dreams of Cas would warp into nightmares of his father... ripping him out of Cas' arms... punching and kicking him until he promised to stay away from Cas... the worst ones were when his father dragged Cas away and Dean had to watch him hurt Cas over and over while he couldn't do anything to help him. 

Every time, he would wake in a cold sweat and could never go back to sleep no matter how often he told himself they were just dreams. They felt real to him, and the message he got from them was very real... he was no good for Cas and he would only ruin Cas' life if they were together. He took no comfort from knowing the truth... in fact, it just made him angrier with each passing day. Most of the time, he felt like he was on the verge of losing his shit and going postal on everyone around him. But he didn't... or he tried not to. 

"Please, ma'am... stop grabbing my stethoscope." Dean pushed his patient's hand away in annoyance and glanced at the clock for the hundredth time, wishing for the end of his shift so he could drown himself in whiskey. He could swear the hands on the clock were broken. The woman, another frequent flyer at the hospital, was going on and on about Matt Damon and how she was having his love child. Dean was ready to snap. She grabbed his stethoscope and sang loudly into it, causing him to jerk the earpieces out. "Goddammit," he shouted. He slammed the chart onto the counter and stalked away before he said or did something he'd regret. 

Benny headed him off before he could get far. "You okay, brother? Heard ya shouting..." 

"I can't handle Crazy Palmer today, Benny. Give her to someone else or you're gonna find my name on a lawsuit or a police report." With that, Dean pushed through the door to the locker room. He was relieved to find it empty. He went to his locker and rested his forehead against the cool metal. His efforts to calm down and get his shit together got derailed when he glanced over at the deserted space where Cas' stuff used to be. Dean reared back and punched his locker so hard it left a dent. As he stood there breathing heavily, the door opened and Charlie entered tentatively. When she didn't say anything, Dean rounded on her. 

"What?" He knew he had no reason to take it out on Charlie... he just couldn't make himself care. Why couldn't everyone just leave him the fuck alone?

"Whoa... don't yell at me. Benny asked me to check on you. He said you went off on a patient. Are you okay?"

"I swear to God, Charlie, if you ask me that one more time..."

Fearless, she got up in his face. "What, Dean? You'll punch something? Yell at me? Check and check." She sat down on the bench and motioned for him to do the same. "Now that your tantrum is taken care of, sit your ass down and use your words." When Dean remained silent, she persisted in a softer tone. "Dean... if you keep going like this, you're going to get fired. Or at the very least, suspended. Now, talk to me."

Dean sighed, his anger giving way to sadness. "I don't know what to do, Charlie. If he was here, I could talk to him or text him or... _something_. But I can't. He's gone and it's too late. I don't know how to fix this." He rubbed his tired eyes and waited for his best friend to give him words of wisdom, crack a joke, or tell him a ridiculous story... anything to get his mind off of Cas.

"When was the last time you slept?" Charlie was worried about him. He'd been an asshole to her, but she was worried about him. Dean huffed a bitter laugh. 

"Three days ago, I think." He heard her gasp. "I mean, I get an hour here and there, but I haven't been able to stay asleep. Too much on my mind, I guess."

"Dean... you can't be here if you haven't been sleeping. It's not good for your patients or for you. You've got to pull it together... or maybe take some Ambien. You can't do this job without sleep." 

"Char... I'm good. I'm Army strong, remember? I can survive without sleep. Trust me, this is nothing. I'm fine." Ignoring her disbelieving glare, Dean stood up to leave. "I'm fine," he repeated to himself as he exited the room.

The end of his shift couldn’t come fast enough, but when it did, Dean high-tailed it out of Dodge before anyone else could ask him about his _feelings_. He knew they were only doing it because they cared, but it still pissed him off. In the safety of his Impala, Dean drove toward his favorite dive and parked. He reached for the door handle, but hesitated. If he went inside the way he was feeling, Dean knew what would happen. He'd get drunk and the second someone crossed him, he would knock them the fuck out and end up behind bars. Since he really didn't want to deal with the pitying look on Sam's face when he bailed him out, Dean put Baby back into gear and drove to the gym instead.

Instead of warming up on the heavy bag like he usually did, Dean did laps around the indoor track. He didn't run very often... not since he was active duty. But on days like today, he ran like he was being chased by the devil himself. He was on his fourth lap when he noticed Sam running beside him. His brother never said a word or looked his way... he just stayed with him. They ran until Dean couldn't run anymore, then walked as their heart rates slowed to normal. When they were halfway through their cool-down stretches, Dean began to wonder why Sam wasn't asking him anything or pushing him to talk. He eyed his brother suspiciously. Sam raised his eyebrows.

"What?"

"Nothing... just wondering when the inquisition is gonna start." Dean frowned at Sam's chuckle. What was his brother playing at? 

"I'm not going to do that, Dean. You don't need anyone to ask how you feel or tell you what to do. You know we're here and that we care. When you're ready to talk, you'll talk. I'm just here in case that happens. But I'm not going to push you. I know better than that." 

Dean didn't know what to say. He thought Sam would throw the puppy eyes at him and use all his tricks to get Dean to talk. He didn't expect... whatever this was... but he appreciated it. Sam really did surprise him sometimes.

"Thanks, Sammy," Dean muttered as he rubbed the back of his neck. Even though Sam wasn't pushing, Dean felt obligated to give him _s_ _ome_ _thing_. "Look... you're right. I'm not ready to talk... not yet. I just need some time to wrap my head around a few things first."   


"It's okay, Dean. I get it." Sam finished his last stretch and shook out his arms. "Want to grab some breakfast?"

"Sure." And just like that, it became a daily ritual. Dean would finish his shift, drive to the gym to work off his anger, Sam would inexplicably show up to work out with him, then they would go to breakfast. Dean wasn't an idiot... he knew what Sam was doing. But he also knew it was exactly what he needed. He didn't need to talk. He didn't need advice. He just needed a friend to be there. He tried not to think about the fact that until recently, that friend was Cas. 

Around day twelve of this unspoken arrangement, Dean and Sam were sitting at breakfast after their workout when Sam's phone rang. He glanced down and frowned. "It's Mom... should I let it go to voicemail?" Dean shrugged and Sam swiped to answer the call. "Hey, Mom... No, I haven't talked to Dad in weeks... What do you mean? Dean's right here, hang on." He handed the phone over.

"Hi, Mom," Dean greeted.

"Dean, have you heard from your father? He left for one of his hunting trips and I haven't heard from him in two days." Mary's normally emotionless voice held a trace of concern. 

"No... I haven't talked to him in a couple of weeks. Have you tried tracking his phone?" 

"Of course I haven't, Dean. You know how I feel about technology. Can you boys take care of it? He needs to be at a board meeting on Friday and it wouldn't look good if his wife didn't know where he was." Right... his mother wasn't concerned for her husband's safety. It was all about the family image, just like it always was. Dean sighed.

"Yeah, Sammy and I will look into it. How have you—" He was cut off by sound of the call ending. "Well, I guess that's that. Want to help me look for dad? Apparently, he's on a hunting trip and she hasn't heard from him in a few days."   

"That's kind of unusual for Dad, isn't it? I mean, he goes out of town all the time, but he always tells Mom where he's going. This seems weird..." Sam was looking at Dean like he had all the answers.

"Sam, I know as much as you know. But I will say that he's definitely not on a hunting trip... not legally anyway. You can't hunt big game outside of hunting season and that's August to December. Whatever he's doing, it's not hunting. Let's just go back to my place and I'll have Charlie meet us there. If anyone can find him, she can." They went to the register to pay their bill and Dean was absentmindedly watching the TV when the news report flashed across the screen. 

_"A US military base was attacked in Syria today, killing four soldiers and wounding another twenty-seven. Among the dead are two Army officers, one Marine corporal, and an Air Force captain. The names of the deceased are being withheld until the families are notified. The wounded have been taken to Ramstein Air Base for treatment and recovery. More as it develops."_

Dean felt sick... He ran out the door just in time to lose the contents of his stomach in the parking lot. "It's not him... It's not him... Cas is fine," Dean whispered over and over, hoping with all his might that it was true. He felt a hand on his shoulder. 

"Dean? Are you okay?" _No_ , he wanted to answer. Instead, he stood up and wiped his mouth and focused on the task at hand. 

"I'm fine, Sammy. Let's just..." He cleared his throat and took a deep breath. "Let's go find Dad." He couldn't do anything about Cas, but he could figure out what happened to his father. On the way to the house, he called Charlie and asked if she would meet them there. She lived so close, she arrived at the same time and pulled in right behind them. 

"What's up, bitches?" It only took a few minutes for them to explain what they needed her to do, and she set to work immediately.

The first thing they did was track down his cell phone location. The GPS said he was in Minneapolis, Minnesota. Dean had no idea what reason John could possibly have to be there. They had no family anywhere near Minnesota. The Mayo Clinic was the only hospital in the state that would warrant the great John Winchester's presence, but the last time John was there was eight years ago. Something was definitely going on... 

Dean leaned over Charlie's shoulder. "See if you can find any hotel reservations under John Winchester." Charlie's fingers flew over the keyboard and he watched as several different screens opened. 

"One room reserved to John Winchester... with an adjoining suite under a Katherine Milligan and guest. I assume the guest is a minor, otherwise the second name would be listed." Charlie opened another screen and started gathering everything she could on Katherine Milligan. "I found her. She lives in Windom, Minnesota. Your father's credit card history shows he's spent a lot of time there over the last fifteen years." 

"What the fuck?" Sam exclaimed. He didn't swear often, but when he did, it was for a good reason. "What the hell has he been doing there for fifteen fucking years?"

"I don't know, Sammy... but it's nothing good. Charlie, this may seem like an odd question, but indulge me..." Before he could continue, Charlie turned the laptop to face them. On the screen was a digital copy of a birth certificate for Adam Milligan, and the father listed was John Winchester. "Fuck..."  


"That cheating piece of shit. What are we supposed to tell Mom, Dean? How do we even start?" Sam ran his hands through his hair and started pacing. Dean had no idea what to say... as the big brother, he was used to being the one taking care of Sam... but he couldn't protect him from this. 

"I don't have a good answer here. We have to tell her something..."

"No, you don't," Charlie interjected. Dean and Sam looked at her in confusion. "Look, he's the one who's screwing around. It's not your job to break your mother's heart. That's on him. All you have to say is that you found him and that he's fine. Just leave it at that. If she wants to know more, tell her to talk to John." 

"Works for me... Sam?" Dean looked at Sam expectantly. Sam nodded his agreement. "Okay, then it's settled. We keep our mouths shut about it for now."

"But Dean, that's not going to work forever. Eventually, we have to confront Dad about this. _We have a brother_..."

"Half-brother," Dean corrected, unwilling to think about the implications. "We'll deal with that another day. Until then, we leave it alone. The kid is sixteen years old. He's gone this long without knowing about us. Another month or so won't matter." Dean suddenly felt very tired. He wiped a hand down his face and looked at his brother. He wished he could say or do something to make him feel better... but this sucked, no mistake. "Look, Sam... we're good here if you need to head out. Charlie will put everything on a thumb drive so when we're ready to talk to Dad, we'll have what we need. Okay?" 

"Okay. I need to get to the hospital anyway... got an appendectomy this afternoon. Call me if you need anything." Sam gave him a brief hug and then he was gone. Charlie saved the incriminating information to a thumb drive and Dean clipped it to his keychain. Charlie stood to pack up her gear and paused.  

"Are you alright?" Before Dean could reply, she stopped him. "I saw the news." She stared at him for a second and he knew his expression gave him away. "I can tell by your face that you did, too. Want to talk about it?"

"No... I just wish I knew more. Any chance you could find anything online?"

"Um... I don't like to hack government websites anymore... kind of had some issues in the past. Let's just say they would see me coming a mile away."

"Charlie, you rebel." Dean looked at her with respect.

"Yeah, that's me... luckily juvenile records are sealed or this _rebel_ would be a felon who couldn't get a job anywhere. Sorry I can't help you..." Charlie looked so dejected that Dean pulled her into a tight hug. 

"Don't even give it another thought. You've already helped me and Sam today. The stuff we found sucked ass, but at least now we know about it, thanks to you. You're awesome." Dean leaned back to look down at her and was satisfied to see her smiling. 

As soon as the door shut behind her, the careful façade he'd built crumbled. _Cas_... Cas could possibly be dead or injured and Dean had no way of knowing. And then there was the clusterfuck surrounding his father. The sanctimonious prick... always ready to judge his sons and condemn their life choices. He flipped on the television to check for more news from Syria... not that it would tell him anything. 

Three days later, he still didn't know shit. He'd exhausted a bunch of favors called in from old Army buddies, but no one was talking. They hadn't released the names yet, and not knowing what happened to Cas was eating away at him. Charlie stayed pretty close, like she was afraid he'd do something stupid without telling her... but he appreciated her presence in his house while he tried to sleep. Knowing she was just on the other side of the bedroom wall seemed to help somehow. Dean suspected she was on sobriety patrol, but he was fine with that. He was being hypervigilant waiting for news and he had no desire to dull his senses with alcohol. All he could do was wait... 

Castiel put the last of his gear into his duffle bag and made his way out of the barracks that had been his home for the last two weeks. It was finally over. He was going home. Well, back to San Antonio anyway. Calling it home was farfetched, since he'd barely unpacked the boxes in his apartment. The silver lining was that it would be easier to move again.

Drew and Rick were waiting outside next to the landing strip. He wished they were going home too. He could use a few friends. He wasn't sure when he realized something was wrong... but every instinct he had suddenly threw his senses into high alert. The only warning was a momentary swish followed by an explosion that took out the supply building, sending the entire base into chaos. The second explosion was closer and knocked him off his feet... the ringing in his ears was deafening. He managed to get up on all fours, the smell of burning fuel scorching his nostrils. He saw Drew staggering to his feet. He was disoriented and didn't seem to notice Rick's body and all the blood. It was only when Drew cried out and dropped to his knees beside his lover that Castiel pushed himself to crawl over to them, his hands scraping over broken glass and metal shards along the way. 

Rick was conscious, but shock was already setting in. The lower part of his right leg was lying a few feet away. Drew's eyes were unfocused and Castiel needed him to be alert for this. "Drew... help me." When he didn't respond, Castiel slapped him, then grabbed his face, forcing him look into his eyes. He needed to help Drew see Rick as the job, not his loved one.  "Come on, Drew. There's a soldier bleeding out and we need to make a tourniquet." He nodded and Castiel saw the instant Drew's training kicked in as he unfastened the LBV pouch that held extra bandages. Castiel surveyed the area and found a scrap of metal. While Drew tied the bandage over what was left of Rick's uniform material, Castiel placed the scrap on top of the half-knot and held it in place long enough for Drew to secure it. Castiel checked to verify that Rick was still with them, then looked at Drew.

"I need you to hold him." He knew Drew understood and when he had a good hold on Rick, Castiel ignored the screams as he took both ends of the metal and twisted it as much as he could before tying it behind the leg. 

With the help of a couple of soldiers, they got Rick to the medical building and made sure he was stable before assessing the injuries of the other wounded. Castiel was packing a chest wound when he felt the first stab of pain. He tried to reach behind him and winced. Drew came to his aid. "Fuck, Castiel, you were hit." The shock and adrenaline had been keeping the pain at bay, but now he felt lightheaded from the blood loss. Drew pushed him into a chair and began cutting off his shirt.  

The next eight hours were a blur. The medical building was damaged, but not bad enough to hinder the medical personnel from treating the injured. Castiel drifted in and out of consciousness, his mind a jumbled mixture of bloody wounds and Dean's face. At some point, Castiel and Rick were airlifted out along with a few dozen other soldiers. 

When he came to, he was at the Ramstein Air Base hospital in Germany. He was told a small piece of shrapnel penetrated the back of his left shoulder. He had been stitched up and given a blood transfusion, and thankfully, there was no nerve damage. The nurse taking his vitals let him know that his parents had been informed of his injury and were waiting for him to call. He dialed his mother's private number and she picked up on the second ring. "Castiel?" 

"Mother, I'm okay."

"Thank God. I've been waiting for your call. They said you lost some blood but would be fine. Will there be any permanent damage?" He knew she was referring to his medical career and his ability to do his job. Always practical...

"There was no nerve injury and I have full use of my fingers. They are keeping me another day and then I'll be flying home... to San Antonio," he amended quickly, lest she think he was coming to Boston. He might wind up there soon, but he had to tie up loose ends first. They talked for a few more minutes. She sounded hurt that he hadn't even told her he was deployed, but she didn't dwell on it. 

"Your father was very concerned when he got the call. He did say you would probably get a commendation." He honestly didn't give a shit, but if the General had his way, Castiel would definitely get a medal pinned to his chest.  

After the call ended, Castiel located Rick's room and paid him a visit. While waiting for the airlift, Drew apparently proposed. Rick hadn't answered him yet, but Castiel knew it was only a matter of time before they were married. He felt a pang of longing in his heart and hoped that one day, he would have the same type of love in his life. 

Twenty-four hours later, he bid farewell to Rick and exchanged contact information. Then he was transported to the airport and boarded a commercial flight to San Antonio. He moved stiffly, but managed to get his rucksack and duffle bag to a taxi with the help of an older couple. They thanked him for his service and he nodded as he climbed into the back seat. Castiel told the driver the address for the facility he paid to store the 'Vette while he was gone. He was anxious to get behind the wheel, but winced when he thought about moving his injured shoulder to drive.  

He knew he needed to contact the hospital and tell them he was home, but he didn't have the energy. All he wanted was to curl up in his own bed and sleep. The apartment was musty and hot. He turned the thermostat down to sixty-five and drank a bottle of water. He was too tired to make the bed, so he collapsed on the bare mattress and surrendered to exhaustion. 

It was dark outside when he awoke. His shoulder was throbbing and he felt a gnawing hunger in his belly. When was the last time he ate? Back in Germany before his flight? He groaned and gingerly sat up to avoid pulling his stitches. He had a lot to get done... but first, he needed to find food. 

He carefully showered and dressed, then drove to the nearest fast food restaurant and gorged himself on two greasy hamburgers. On the way home, he called his unit to report in and scheduled his debriefing for the next day. After a trip to the grocery store, Castiel drove past the gym. He knew Dean would be at the hospital, but he couldn't resist... despite feeling like it made him a stalker. Next, he cruised by Dean's house. As expected, there were no lights on. Angry at himself for his stupid impulse to be near places that reminded him of Dean, he sped home and was thankful he didn't get a ticket. 

By Friday, his post-deployment medical evaluation was complete and the base hospital released him for work with only minor restrictions. He sat on his sofa and called Crowley's office. The conversation was short and sweet since Crowley was only concerned with how quickly he could return to work. Castiel agreed to resume his previous schedule the following night. 

To get his internal clock ready for working the night shift again, he made himself stay awake until Saturday morning. He finally passed out, and for the first time since he left for Syria, he didn't dream of Dean. 

As the hour hand drew nearer to seven, Castiel's stomach began to knot. How would Dean react to seeing him again? Would he acknowledge him or ignore him? Castiel didn't think he could handle it if Dean used that formal tone like he did the day he left. Come to think of it, how was _he_ going to react when he saw Dean? He wasn't sure if what he felt was anger or grief... maybe a little of both. Whatever the case, he still wanted to see him again, even if it didn't turn out well. With wooden movements, he dressed in his scrubs and waited until the last possible minute to leave. 

The Impala was parked right where it always was, but a pickup was in Castiel's usual spot. He found a space for his car two rows over and sat behind the wheel as he stared at the ER entrance. Two ambulances were in the bay offloading patients. He could get through this. After all, he was the General's son and had spent most of his life masking his emotions. He could do it again.

He stepped through the doors and initially, no one seemed to notice he was there. Benny was the first to spot him and the big Cajun grinned. "Damn, brother, you're a sight for sore eyes." He came forward, but before he could hug him, Castiel held up his hand.  

"I'll take a raincheck on the hug, Benny. I took some shrapnel to the shoulder." 

Benny's eyes filled with concern. "You okay?" Several of the interns and nurses began to gather around them and he found himself telling them the abridged version of his injury. He left out the part where he had to save his friend from bleeding out after his leg was blown off. When he was done and the crowd dispersed, he saw Dean and Charlie coming out of the locker room. He froze. It had only been a couple of weeks, but it seemed like an eternity. Since they hadn't seen him yet, Castiel took a moment to let his eyes roam freely over Dean's body. He looked good... maybe a little thinner. Dean's back was toward him, so Castiel couldn't see his face. It didn't matter, he had it memorized.

Charlie noticed him first. Her eyes widened and she stopped mid-stride. Dean stopped walking, then he turned around and followed her gaze. Castiel didn't know what to expect, but he would never have predicted Dean's next actions. His face lit up like the sun as he beamed at Castiel. Then he all but ran across the room and grabbed him in a rib-crushing hug. Castiel hissed in pain and for a split second, didn't know what to do with his arms. Cautiously, he lifted them to hold onto Dean's waist. All of his worries melted away when Dean's lips met his in a crushing kiss. Time stopped and in that moment, the only thing that registered was that Dean was kissing him in front of everybody. His knees felt weak and his breath hitched as Dean pulled back and rested their foreheads together. 

"Hello, Dean," he whispered against Dean's lips.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> See... all better.


	7. Chapter 7

Talking to Sam over breakfast, Dean realized he separated his life into two categories... before Cas and after Cas. Before Cas moved to San Antonio, Dean was content. He had friends, a great job, and he could go play soldier once a month. Ever since the blue-eyed bastard barged into his world, too many things seemed to be out of his control, including a roller coaster of emotions that he didn't want or need. First the guy made Dean feel things, and then he fucking disappeared. Rationally, Dean knew it wasn't Cas' fault that he had to leave at the worst possible time, but these days, Dean wasn't exactly being rational.

In the first few hours after the news from Syria aired, Dean exhausted all reasonable... and some unreasonable... attempts to find out where Cas was and if he was alive or dead. He didn't believe in crazy psychic crap, but deep down, he thought he would feel it if Cas had been killed. It did very little to calm his fears that Cas had been hurt. He of all people knew the myriad of injuries a soldier could sustain without dying...

"You haven't heard a word I've said," Charlie said, snapping her fingers in front of his face. There was no point in lying about it.

"Sorry... my mind was somewhere else," he admitted sheepishly. "What were you saying?"

"I _said_... I think we should have game night soon. It seems like forever since our last one." He knew Charlie was doing her best to get his mind off everything, and he appreciated it. Maybe he should do something fun. 

"Sounds good. We gonna invite the usual suspects?" Dean asked as he pushed the locker room door open. His shift started a good five minutes ago, but he was dragging ass today. 

"Yeah... How does Sunday afternoon sou—" She broke off and stared at something behind him. Curious, Dean turned around. _Cas_. Not even thinking about hiding his excitement, he smiled. Cas was home... he was safe... he was so fuckin' _beautiful_. All thoughts of their fight disappeared and the need to touch him... to hold him... sent him into action. He ran across the ER and threw his arms around Cas, breathing in his scent and feeling the reassurance of his heartbeat against his chest. Not caring who saw, Dean lifted his head, closed his eyes, and pressed his mouth to Cas' soft, full lips. He hoped Cas could feel how much he missed him as he poured every minute of worry into the kiss.

Breathless, he pulled back and rested against Cas' forehead. "Hello, Dean."

"Hey," he whispered the single word and then grinned. "I missed your face, asshole." Now that the initial shock of seeing Cas again was over, Dean's mind began to race. Would Cas forgive him? Would he even want to salvage their relationship? They needed to talk... Cheering and clapping interrupted his chaotic thoughts and he looked around. All his co-workers and friends were smiling at them. He saw no judgment in the faces that surrounded them... only acceptance. 

"Are you..." 

"Please don't ask if I'm okay," Dean interrupted with a laugh. His eyes returned to Cas' gorgeous blue ones. "I'm good now. You're home and you're not dead."

A slight lift to the right side of Cas' mouth was the only sign of amusement. "I am definitely not dead."

"This is all very romantic, but we have patients, people," Lisa called out from the triage area. Dean reluctantly dropped his arms and Cas let his hands drop to his sides with a wince. Dean frowned. 

"You're hurt." It wasn’t a question.

"Just took some shrapnel to the shoulder. I'll be fine in a week or so, no big deal." Cas' nonchalant tone did nothing to assuage Dean's concern. He started to reach out for him, but Benny slapped a file in his outstretched hands.

"Patients, Romeo," Benny smirked. Dean gave Cas an apologetic look and headed for his first case of the night. Dean was normally a well-disciplined doctor, but with Cas being in the building... being home... he could barely concentrate on what he was supposed to be doing. It was a good thing that the majority of the injuries and illnesses were minor.

It was over two hours until they got a break, but it didn't happen soon enough for Dean. He met Cas in the breakroom, directed him to sit on the sofa, then grabbed two cups of coffee, making sure Cas' was prepared the way Dean knew he liked it. The grateful smile he got in return was well worth the effort. He sat next to Cas and turned toward him so they could talk. 

"So..." Dean wasn't sure how to begin talking about their future, but he knew he had to apologize before anything else. "We should probably clear the air a bit... I'll lead off." He fidgeted with the handle of his cup. "I'm sorry for the way I treated you the day you left. You didn't deserve it and I need you to know... I thought I was doing the right thing."

"Dean..." Cas looked uncomfortable and... worried? Dean wanted to reach out and touch, but he wasn't sure if Cas okay with it. He didn't exactly ask permission before laying a big one on the guy in front of the entire ER. Cas may not want to be with him... not after the things Dean said. He would do his best to make Cas understand, but until then, he planned on keeping his hands to himself. Besides, this was about talking. That was another thing Dean wasn't good at, but he wanted to fix their friendship and move it to the next level, if Cas still wanted _hi_ _m_. 

"Please, just... let me get this out." He wrapped his hands around his coffee cup, drawing comfort from the heat. "I was afraid my father would find out and.." Cas frowned and looked away. "No, Cas, it’s not what you think. I didn't care what he did to me... I was worried about what he would do to you. I still am, honestly... he's a powerful force in the medical community and a vengeful prick. It's not far-fetched to think he would get pissed and take it out on you. I thought if I pushed you away, it would be better for you in the long run." 

Cas stared at him blankly. "Better for me? Do you have any idea how hurt—"

"It about killed me, Cas," Dean interrupted. He stood and started to pace. After a few seconds, he stopped with his back to Cas and continued. "I hated seeing that look in your eyes... like I let you down." He turned to find Cas standing close to him. He reached out, hesitated for a beat, and then slid his hand down Cas' arm. He watched his fingers move lower until they traced over the back of Cas' hand. His eyes flicked up to Cas, as if asking permission. "I never want to see it again. And I'll do my damnedest to make it up to you." Cas turned his wrist and pressed his palm to Dean's.

Cas leaned in and rested his face against Dean's cheek. He felt the warmth of Cas' breath as he spoke. "I don't want you to make anything up to me, Dean. But I would like very much to see where this goes." He pulled back and leveled Dean with a determined gaze. "As far as your father is concerned... let him try to harm my career. I've never been afraid of bullies and I'm not about to start now." He paused and his eyes darted to the floor. "I'm only afraid of losing you. If you aren't completely sure about this, please don't ask me to be with you. I care about you and if I'm being completely honest here... I could easily see myself falling for you."  

Dean felt panic rise in his throat, but he tamped it down. He wasn't worried about being with Cas... he was worried about failing him. He couldn't promise that he would never let Cas down again... but he knew he didn't want to be without Cas anymore. "I'm sure," Dean said waveringly. Until he said it out loud, Dean had been battling his doubts. Hearing the words gave him courage and made him feel confident in his decision. "I'm sure," he repeated with more assurance. Cas nodded and brushed his thumb along Dean's jaw, his eyes dark like a stormy sea. Dean swallowed hard and licked his lips. Cas' gaze darted to his mouth. Dean breathed a laugh to cut the sexual tension that was building between them. "How much longer until our shift is over?" 

A wicked smile spread across Cas' lips and Dean felt his dick twitch in response. Good lord, they hadn't even fucked yet and he was already about to explode with want. Unfortunately, Benny the cock-block popped his head in the door to tell them to get back to work. Reluctantly, they both complied. 

After their brief conversation in the break room, Dean found the time crawling at a snail's pace. He was still getting speculative looks from his co-workers, but never saw any negativity from them. Benny grinned at him more than usual and Jo kept looking at him like he was a box full of fluffy puppies. He wanted to tease her about Benny and their not-so-subtle attempts to keep their relationship a secret, but he didn't have the heart. They deserved happiness and if they found it with each other, who was he to judge?

Cas was back in the swing of things and Dean caught glimpses of him with patients. He'd never admit to the warm feeling he got when Cas caught him looking and smiled, but he suspected it was written all over his face. The nurses kept giving him heart eyes and he couldn't think of another reason for it. They certainly didn't do that when he asked them out in the past. His actions apparently created an interesting work day, and he couldn't help thinking about how much fun he and Cas would have with that later. For now, he was impatiently waiting for the hour hand to hit seven. When it finally did, he was the first in the locker room. He waited for Cas and as soon as the man walked through the door, Dean asked, "Breakfast?"

"Of course, Dean," Cas said, opening his locker. Dean smiled when he saw that it was once again filled with Cas' things. His smile faded when he noticed a picture of three handsome men in uniform. Dean recognized one was Cas, but who were the other two? He put it out of his mind for now, but fully intended to ask Cas about it. 

Minutes later, the 'Vette was following him through rush hour traffic. Dean had just turned up the volume on a Metallica song when his phone rang. The number had a Baltimore area code. "Hello?"

"Good morning, is this Dean Winchester?"

"Yes, speaking," Dean replied.

"This is Dr. Bowers, Dean of Emergency Medicine at Johns-Hopkins. Your father informed me that you were interested in the trauma surgeon position. Do you have a minute to discuss the details?" 

 _What the fuck?_ This guy was just assuming that Dean wanted the job... or John had already made the decision for him. Son of a bitch. Dean gripped the steering wheel tighter and clenched his teeth. "Look, I don't know what my father told you, but I'm not interested in your job offer. I'm happy where I am and have no desire to work at Johns-Hopkins."

"Oh. Well, you should be more appreciative of this opportunity. There's a list of interested doctors as long as my arm. Your father led me to believe—"

Dean was losing his patience. Maybe the guy was only doing his job, but Dean wasn't about to let this asshole scold him like a goddamn child. "I don't give a shit what my father led you to believe and you can keep your fuckin' opinions to yourself. As far as the job goes, you can cram it up your ass because _I'm_ _not_ _int_ _ere_ _st_ _ed_." With that, Dean hung up and tossed his phone into the passenger seat. _Damn it_. He didn't mean to lose his temper, but he was so fucking tired of John trying to control his life. He ran his fingers through his hair and slowed his breathing. He wasn't going to let this ruin his morning. 

It wasn't until he parked and shut off the ignition that he remembered the routine he'd gotten into while Cas was deployed. He got out of the car and held up a finger as he called Sam. 

"Hey, uh, Cas is home, so I won't be at the gym this morning."

"Cas is home? That's great. See... you worried for nothing." Dean was going to respond, but Sam wasn't done. "Did you get a chance to talk? I know you hate it, but he deserves to know how you feel about him, Dean."

The man in question was looking around, as if trying not to eavesdrop. "We talked, and now we're going to have breakfast."

"Tell him I said welcome home." He wanted to tell Sam about the annoying call, but now wasn't the time.

"I will. Bye." Dean shoved his phone back in his pocket. "Sam says welcome home."

"Please thank him when you talk to him again." Dean agreed and led the way into the diner. The waitress did a double-take at Dean's change of eating companion, but she greeted Cas warmly. They ordered and Dean leaned back in the booth. Cas had his elbows on the table and hands clasped in front of him. He looked just as nervous as Dean felt. "What are your plans today?" 

"I don't have any. Sleep... maybe hang out with my best friend. He's been gone awhile and I... I missed him."

    


When the cheering and applause started, Castiel felt a moment of heart-pounding panic. How would Dean react when he realized what he'd done? "Are you..." 

"Please don't ask if I'm okay." His smile was genuine and Castiel relaxed. "I'm good now. You're home and you're not dead." Somehow, someway, Dean always knew how to make him smile. How could he stay angry? It didn't mean he was forgiven... not yet... but Castiel knew how much it took for Dean to kiss him in front of all their co-workers. If he was willing to take that first step, Castiel could meet him halfway.

All too soon, the real world barged its way in and Castiel found himself seeing patients. He was hyper-aware of Dean's presence in the ER. It was as if he could feel him, even if he couldn't see him. He was never more thankful for the nurses and interns, because his concentration was almost nonexistent. During the first lull, Dean nodded toward the break room and Castiel set his charts down to follow.

"Sit and I'll get us some coffee." Castiel watched Dean take their cups and add just the right amount of cream and sugar to his. He smiled when Dean handed him his mug. He sat down, folding his leg on the couch so he could face Castiel. He was patient and tried to keep an open mind throughout Dean's apology and the explanation concerning his father's possible wrath. He was still concerned. When he'd left, Dean was firmly entrenched in the safety of his closet. Was he supposed to believe that Dean was okay with being publicly recognized as a couple?

When Dean hinted that he did what he thought was better for Castiel, he felt his anger resurface and responded with disbelief. "Better for me? Do you have any idea how hurt—"

"It about killed me, Cas," Dean said as he started pacing. Castiel could see the sincerity in his movements. Dean was saddened by the hurt he caused... he really was worried about Castiel's feelings. He knew Dean was a kind and compassionate person... selfless even... but he felt so angry, he had almost convinced himself that Dean never cared about _him_. It was a comfort to see that he was wrong.

He stood and moved to stand behind Dean. He raised a hand to comfort him, but Dean turned and Castiel let it fall. He felt the heat of Dean's touch on his arm and he froze. All his doubts faded as Dean met him halfway. Castiel entwined his fingers with Dean's. Slowly, as if waiting for Dean to pull away, Cas leaned until his face was pressed to Dean's. He told Dean the truth. He _wasn't_ afraid of Dean's father. The man may indeed be vindictive, but Castiel had grown up with the General for a father. He was no stranger to dealing with manipulative, controlling men with power over others. His real fear was losing Dean... and it was justified. It already happened once and he didn’t think he could bear it if he lost him again. He spelled it out for Dean because he needed him to be sure.  

"I'm sure," Dean replied to his question. The words were soft and lacked confidence. Castiel's heart sank... but then he repeated it, louder. Castiel felt the wall around his heart start to crumble. He wanted nothing more than to trust Dean... maybe this was the first step.

Since they were still on the clock, Castiel pushed aside the thought of holding Dean and kissing him until they couldn't breathe. He got back into the routine of the ER and appreciated how the other staff treated him like he'd never left. Dean caught his eye a few times and they shared brief smiles whenever possible. He tried to stay focused on his patients, but all he could think about was how soon he could get Dean alone after quitting time. 

At seven, Castiel still had two charts to notate. He hurried through them and entered the locker room. He hoped Dean would be waiting for him. He wanted to spend time with Dean... it was the only thing he'd been able to think about over the last few hours. Would asking him to breakfast make him seem too eager?

 "Breakfast?" Dean asked as soon as he cleared the doorway, beating him to the punch. He quickly opened his locker and his eyes flicked to the only picture he'd taped to the door. It was him with Drew and Rick, the day before he was supposed to ship home. All three were grinning for the camera. It didn't take long to gather his things and then they were heading out. 

When he pulled into the small lot of the familiar diner, Castiel felt a rush of nostalgia. It hadn't been long since the last time he saw the place, but it felt like it since so much had happened since then. Castiel got out and approached the Impala. Dean was putting his phone to his ear and held up a finger indicating Castiel should wait a minute. He tucked his hands in the pockets of his scrubs and tried to look like he wasn't listening to Dean's conversation with his brother.

"Sam says welcome home."

"Please thank him when you talk to him again." He followed Dean inside and the smell of bacon made his mouth water. His second favorite food had been in short supply in Syria. They sat down in a booth and Dean lounged on his bench like he owned the place. They ordered and Castiel ventured to ask, "What are your plans today?" 

"I don't have any. Sleep... maybe hang out with my best friend. He's been gone awhile and I... I missed him." Castiel's heart melted. He reached across the table, palm up, and Dean took it without hesitation. 

"I missed you too." The waitress served their coffee then and the moment ended. Conversation turned to Castiel's deployment. Dean wanted to know the details of his injury and he found himself back there as he relived the horror of the bombing. "The captain I met before... it's funny how small the world is... he was there."

At Dean's furrowed brow, Castiel clarified, "The man I slept with before we...." Castiel stopped, letting Dean fill in the blank. He was nothing if not honest and if he and Dean were going to make this work, he needed to share details of his life... even the parts he wasn't proud of. Besides, Dean already deduced he'd been with someone.

"Oh," Dean said and tried to pull his hand away. Castiel tightened his grip. 

"We weren't together then, Dean. You know that..." He wanted to explain why he was so quick to forgive Dean. "His name is Drew. He was the group leader for our mission... I can't tell you anything more than that regarding the military side, but I want to tell you everything else. I don't want to keep things from you... I hope you're the same with me." Castiel took a sip of his coffee and paused. "When I left here, I was not in a good place... which I'm sure you guessed. I couldn't get you out of my mind and I needed to or I would have compromised my safety and the safety of those around me. The first day over there, I went for a walk and ran into Drew... literally. We got to talking and I told him about you. He was kind enough to share his own experience with me... that he had been just like you. He never wanted anyone to see him as the gay doctor or the gay soldier. He helped me understand that you wanting to hide who you are didn't necessarily mean you didn’t want me. Then he introduced me to Rick... the man he wanted to spend the rest of his life with. Rick was hurt during the attack. He lost his leg." Visions of the scene threatened to derail his thoughts, but he pushed them aside. "Seeing them together after... it made me realize that life is too short and that some things are worth fighting for."

The seconds ticked by and Castiel watched different emotions play across Dean's face. The waitress brought their food and Dean picked up his fork. Then he set it down again. "When I figured out that you hooked up with someone... I gotta say, I was jealous. Even though I knew I didn't have that right." He took a deep breath and looked Castiel in the eye. "While we figure out this thing between us, I want us to be exclusive."

"Dean, are you asking me to go steady? Do you want me to check _yes_ or _no_?" Castiel couldn't help teasing Dean, hoping to lighten the mood.

Dean rolled his eyes. "Asshole." And with that, the tension lifted and they settled into eating and making each other laugh. The waitress cleared their plates and Dean tossed a twenty on the table. They stood and Castiel found he didn't want the morning to end. 

Outside, Dean shuffled his feet while Castiel stood there awkwardly. "Dean, do you want—"

"Want to come ba—" Both men stopped. "You first," Dean laughed.

"I was going to ask if you wanted to do something tonight before work. Maybe dinner?"

"Yeah... that's good... we can definitely have dinner." Dean put his key into the door of the Impala and then turned around. "Or you could come over and we could sleep at my place."

"Sleep?" Castiel asked with a lifted brow. Dean blushed from the tips of his ears down to the neckline of his scrubs. Castiel thought he was adorable.

"Sorry, I shouldn't assume..." Dean looked down at his feet. Castiel used his finger to bring Dean's chin up so they were again looking eye to eye.

"I'll follow you." Castiel already knew how much his voice affected Dean... and there was no mistaking the flare of desire in those beautiful green eyes.

Hearing Cas talk about Syria and his new _friends_ affected Dean more than he liked to admit, and jealousy stabbed through him like a red-hot poker. He jumped to conclusions as soon as Cas told him about meeting his hook-up over there, but as Cas explained, his fears went away and their meal ended on a good note... a _very_ good note. The conversation also answered Dean's question about the picture hanging in Cas' locker. He couldn't condemn Cas for making friends. He knew first-hand about the bonds soldiers made in places like that... but _Christ,_ did it have to be with someone he'd slept with?

Dean tapped on the steering wheel and he kept looking in the rearview mirror. With the top up, he couldn't really see Cas' face. He hadn't been this nervous about sex since he'd lost his virginity. Halfway to the house, the overcast sky opened up. The steady rhythm of the windshield wipers and the pounding of raindrops on the roof of the car calmed him. It was Cas, not some stranger. They had sex once already... oral sex anyway. Sure, it had been spontaneous and didn't exactly end well. But it was different now... Cas was his best friend and they were together. No matter what happened between them today, that wouldn't change. The thought was comforting and settled his nerves.

He shut off the engine, got out of the car, and sprinted to the porch. He still got drenched and he laughed as Cas leapt over a small bush and jumped over the three steps to land not-so-gracefully next to Dean. "I'll give it a six, but you could improve your landing."

"Who's the asshole now?" Cas shook his head like a dog and water droplets hit Dean in the face. He stared at the way Cas' wet hair was plastered to his forehead. The rivulets running down his cheeks and throat suddenly became fascinating. His mouth parted and he heard Cas' soft chuckle. He pulled Dean to him and whispered in his ear, the warm puffs of air sending shivers down his spine. "Don't ever play poker, Dean. Your face reveals too much." Then he was being kissed. He heard the rattle of his keys as they hit the porch. His hands came to rest on Cas' hips and Dean let him take control. Cas placed his thumbs at the bolt of Dean's jaw and he opened his mouth to allow entry. Cas took what he wanted, leaving Dean breathless and wanting more... _so much more_.

Cas stepped back. His pupils were blown and he was breathing heavily. Dean thought it was nice to know he wasn't the only one affected. With one last look at Cas' pretty lips, Dean bent to retrieve his keys. His hands were trembling slightly as he unlocked his door.

He didn't even check to see if Cas was following him as he walked down the hallway to his bedroom. He tried to remember if his sheets were fresh... or fresh enough. Then Cas was pressed to his back and his hands were on him. He stopped thinking altogether as Cas undressed him from behind... not slow and seductive like he expected... no, Cas had one purpose... to get him naked as quickly as possible. "You are so beautiful, Dean," he whispered between soft kisses on Dean's neck. "So very beautiful."

"Handsome... men aren't... " He was silenced when Cas spun him around and crashed their lips together in a fierce kiss. He reached to fist Cas' hair, holding him steady. His other hand shoved Cas' scrubs down his legs, needing him to be as naked as he was. He released his grip on Cas' hair and used both hands to hold Cas' bare ass. Damn, he was firm. The brush of velvety skin against his cock had Dean whimpering softly. He rolled his hips to feel the slide of their shafts together. Cas nipped at his lower lip and with a gentle push, sent him sprawling onto the bed. 

Cas remained standing. Dean fumbled blindly in his nightstand for supplies while parting his legs in invitation. He tossed the items on the bed before slowly rolling to his stomach. In one smooth motion, he rose to his hands and knees. "Dean..." 

"Don't keep me waiting, Cas. It's been so long..." He felt the bed dip as Cas settled near his bent knees. The soft touch of Cas' fingertips on his hip made him sigh contentedly. Bracing himself on his elbows, Dean looked back, eyes devouring Cas' smooth chest and erect cock. Cas wasn't looking at him though, he was gazing down at Dean's upturned ass. Almost reverently, Cas placed his hands on Dean's cheeks. He gently parted them with his thumbs and Dean let his head drop to the mattress. Warm breaths teased his entrance and when Cas' tongue lapped at it, Dean released a long, low-pitched moan. Cas' mouth worked his hole until Dean was quivering and begging to be taken. 

Strong hands stroked up and down his thighs and Dean could barely hold himself up on his knees. "Cas... _please_... just..." 

Dean whined when Cas pulled away to pepper kisses on his lower back... just light enough to drive Dean insane. "What do you want, Dean?" Cas' voice was huskier than usual and it sent a mad rush of need coursing through his veins. 

"I want you... inside me." Would he have to beg? He would. He'd do anything Cas asked of him. Cas' hot mouth was replaced with fingers, cool and slick with lube. One pushed inside of Dean and he inhaled sharply. Cas worked it in and out... slowly at first, but he built up speed until Dean was fucking back on Cas' hand. He didn't care if he was acting like a wanton whore. It felt too good for him to care. _"More..."_

Another finger joined the first one and the stretch made his muscles tense. All it took was a small crook and some pressure and Dean was lost. He moaned and his hands gripped the sheets. "You _love_ this... don't you, Dean?" Cas' husky voice was the sexiest thing Dean had ever heard. 

"Yes... yes... _Cas,_ _p_ _lease_...." Dean begged, unashamed. He felt Cas tongue on his back, leaving a wet trail up his spine.

Soon, a third finger was added and then a fourth. Dean panted heavily, his skin damp with sweat. Cas didn't seem to be in any hurry, but Dean was filled with the heat of desire. "Fuck me," he finally shouted, frustration evident his tone.  

"Shhh," Cas whispered somewhere near his ear. "I'm going to give you what you want... and what you need." Dean wanted to scream _when_ , but he bit his lip and stayed silent. He knew Cas wasn't about to change his pace just because Dean was impatient. It was clear the man was intent on taking his time and Dean could relate. He wanted to relish every inch of Cas... Dean couldn't blame him for wanting the same. Cas was pumping his fingers in and out of Dean's slick hole faster and faster, and it was making him lightheaded. He felt like Cas was taking him apart, piece by piece. He'd let his fingertips brush Dean's prostate, just enough to tease, but not enough to drive Dean closer to the edge.

He closed his eyes, silently pleading for Cas to just take him... to put him out of this glorious misery. Then Cas' fingers were gone. It left him feeling bereft and God help him, tears pricked his eyes. He blinked them back. _What the fuck?_ Dean Winchester did _not_ get emotional during sex. 

Cas' open palms, still slick with lube, rubbed up and down his back and Dean could sense Cas moving himself into position. He wanted to watch, but it was too much effort. He felt the head of Cas' cock against his entrance and braced himself for the burn. Cas' hands moved up to his shoulders and held them. Dean made the sound of a feral animal as Cas pressed inside of him. His chest covered Dean, skin to skin. "Dean, talk to me," Cas whispered softly.

"Can't... " Dean gasped. His body was wound tight and he knew he needed to relax. 

"Do you want me to stop?" The words were followed by light kisses on the back of his neck.

"Don't you fucking dare," Dean growled and he both heard and felt Cas' deep chuckle. Dean gave an experimental roll of his hips and he was happy to hear Cas gasp. The discomfort faded fast and Dean was left needing more. Cas snapped his hips, plunging deep inside him. " _Yes_... that's it, Babe." He could feel the smile on Cas' lips against his skin. 

Cas slowly pulled out until the head of his cock caught on Dean's rim. He drove back in almost immediately, forcing the air out of Dean's lungs. Emotions flooded his mind. He recognized lust, but there was something more... something just below the surface... whatever it was, he knew he would never be the same after this. Cas thrust into him over and over, and Dean met each and every one. Cas' hips pounded against his ass, making a wet slapping sound that could be heard over their harsh breathing. Dean had no way of knowing how long it had been, and he didn't care... he could stay like this forever. He groaned as Cas began to slow until he was gently rocking into Dean.

Dean pushed up so his arms were straightened. Cas' weight still covered him, but years of doing push-ups in the Army kept him steady. Shifting his left hand to give him better balance, he lifted his right hand and wrapped it around his cock. His balls were already tight and he slid his fist up and down his shaft, chasing the promise of his release. "Yeah... that's it... come on," he chanted softly, whether to himself or Cas, he didn't know. He wanted... no, he _needed_ to feel Cas lose control. 

He heard a hiss that could have been from pain or pleasure and Cas' thrusts became more erratic. His fingertips dug into Dean's shoulders and Dean could only imagine how Cas looked now... hair wild... body glistening... skin flushed pink... he'd look like a god. Dean thought of the night at the gym. The two of them grappling on the mat... their long-suppressed desire bubbling to the surface... the feeling of Cas' warm mouth on his dick. " _Cas_..." Dean cried out, his orgasm coming from deep inside, burning and clawing its way out. He felt his body tightening and the hot cum on his hand. Behind him, Cas was gasping for air as he ruthlessly fucked into Dean. 

Seconds later, Cas stopped moving and Dean could feel his cock throbbing inside of him, filling the condom with his own release. Ever so slowly, Dean lowered himself to the bed. Cas followed him down, still inside of him... still connected. Dean focused on Cas' strong, rapid heartbeat against his back. He concentrated on it and noted when it began to slow to a normal pace. Cas' cock was softening and he pulled out. Dean grunted at the sensation. He didn't look up when the bed shifted. He heard water running and assumed Cas was taking care of the condom and cleaning up. He let his eyes close.

He awoke to hands roaming over his back. He purred and arched his back, wincing. When was the last time he bottomed? The low, soft laugh made him open his eyes. "You're like a cat," Cas said, smiling fondly. He looked so damn good with sleepy eyes and hair even more rumpled than usual.

"Morning, Sunshine," Dean mumbled against the pillow. "--time's it?"

"It's almost four. We should get up." 

Dean reached out, grabbed Cas' hand and pressed it to his half-hard cock. "We should..." His stomach ruined his seduction by making a sound like an asthmatic whale.

"Shower and get some food," Cas finished for him, laughing softly. Dean rolled onto his back and sighed. "Come on..." Cas whispered. "If you play your cards right, I'll blow you before we go to work."

"Mmm... promise?" Dean looked at him, his expression wide-eyed and innocent... a look he'd perfected over the years.

"Brat," Cas said, already crawling out of bed. Dean stretched and watched Cas' perfect ass walking away. _Damn_ _, he was fine_.


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For your enjoyment, we present to you a lot of fluff with a bit of angst. I know we're a bit behind due to the universe getting in the way of our porn writing... but trust me, it was worth the wait. ;-)
> 
> Warnings: John Winchester's A+ Parenting, Homophobic Language, brief mention of Castiel/Kelly Klein (past)

 

Castiel stood under the stream of hot water and allowed the warmth to relax his injured shoulder. He huffed a laugh to himself when he thought about the restrictions the military doctor had given him, certain that sex with Dean officially qualified as _overexertion_. He was just reaching for the shampoo when the frosted glass door slid open and Dean stepped in behind him. Strong arms circled his waist and he leaned against Dean's chest with a contented sigh.

"Did you miss me? Or did I lure you here with the promise of a blow job?" Castiel felt Dean chuckle, then pulled away so he could turn around, but Dean stopped him. "Dean?"

"I didn't see this... before." Dean ran a gentle finger across the neat row of stitches on his shoulder. "Does it hurt?"

Castiel faced him and cupped his jaw. "A little sore. Nothing I can't handle. It certainly didn't prevent me from fucking your tight ass, did it?" He smacked Dean's left butt cheek and smirked at the shocked look on his face.

"Cas, you dirty whore. I didn't know you had such a filthy mouth."

With a wicked grin, Castiel dropped to his knees. "Filthy mouth, huh? Well... far be it from me to disappoint you." Holding eye contact, he reached up and began to stroke Dean's dick until it was hard. Castiel sucked one of Dean's balls into his mouth and worked it with his tongue as he continued to stroke him lazily. Dean moaned and braced himself on the tiled wall with his left hand, then curled his right around the back of Castiel's neck and used his thumb to massage the muscles there.

Castiel licked a slow, wet line up the middle of the sac and stopped at the base of Dean's shaft, relishing in the soft sounds above him. Dean's eyes were hooded, but locked on Castiel's face with razor-sharp intensity. Smiling, Castiel raised his head and guided his lover's cock to his mouth. He rubbed the head over his lips, smearing Dean's arousal until he was slick with precum, then stuck his tongue out and lapped at the slit. Dean hissed and moved his hand to Castiel's hair, fingers grasping with a sharp tug. "Suck me, babe. Show me what that filthy mouth of yours can do."

Castiel leaned back on his heels, his eyes on Dean's cock now. Fully erect, it was beautiful. Longer than average, cut, and silky smooth. He pressed the flat of his tongue against the large vein at the underside, feeling the pulse with each beat of Dean's heart. Slowly, he moved his lips up the length until he got to the head again. He opened wide and took it into his mouth. Dean groaned his pleasure.

His own cock swelled between his legs and he reached down to cup himself, pressing hard to hold back the urge to come. At the same time, he relaxed his throat and took Dean all the way in, his nose twitching at the tickle of Dean's bush. A brief thought of shaving Dean bare crossed his mind as he swirled his tongue around the base.

Releasing the hold on his own cock, he dragged his blunt fingernails up Dean's thighs and continued around the back to grip his ass. He thought about the way it felt to sink between those cheeks and push into that hot, slick hole. He swallowed around Dean's dick, working the muscles in his throat, knowing the incredible sensation it would give. From the sounds Dean was making and the trembling of his legs, he was enjoying it very much. He pulled Dean forward, silently urging him to take what he wanted. "God... Cas... " Dean rolled his hips, driving his dick into Castiel's mouth over and over again. Castiel hollowed out his cheeks and sucked hard and fast. "Gonna make me come, Cas... yes... yes.... _uhuhuhuh_..." The grip on his hair was painful, but he didn't care. Dean's balls were tight against his body now and his precum coated Castiel's tongue. Dean entire body jerked and then the thick, viscous release spilled into his waiting mouth.

A moment later, he let Dean's cock slip from his mouth. He gazed up at Dean and saw that he was panting and his chest was heaving with the effort of breathing. Castiel got to his feet and ran his hand up and down his own aching cock. Dean stepped forward and brought his face close, but instead of kissing him, he licked the corner of Castiel's mouth. He hummed and Castiel knew Dean had just licked up the cum that escaped his lips before he could swallow it down. The act was so erotic... so intimate... that Castiel had to squeeze himself painfully to keep from losing his load right then and there. It was his turn to come, but he wanted to make it last.

Dean nuzzled against the side of his face. "Cas... let me..." He planted a soft kiss on Castiel's cheek and gently turned him around. Castiel's head fell forward as Dean slid a hand across his belly, then moved down to fist his cock. His right hand moved up and down while his left rested lightly on Castiel’s hip. Dean's full lips left a trail of light kisses around the shoulder wound as he breathed soft words that Castiel couldn't hear. The tenderness of the gesture had Castiel feeling lightheaded and spread warmth through his heart. He felt Dean's tongue move up his neck, then the sensation of teeth on his earlobe made him moan, _"Dean..."_

Castiel relaxed into Dean's hold on him and let his head roll back to rest on his lover's muscled shoulder. Dean's left hand circled Castiel’s waist and held him up as he began to fuck into Dean's tight fist. Dean’s mouth continued to work its way around the shell of his ear, his warm breath sending shivers up his spine, despite the hot water raining down on them. Castiel rocked his hips, eyes closing as he chased his own orgasm. “That's it, Cas... _come for me_.” The words, spoken low and close to his ear drove him closer to the edge. His breathing was harsh and erratic. He covered Dean’s hand with his own, guiding him to go even faster. “You want it fast, babe?” Dean whispered right before his teeth nipped and sucked at his throat. The jolt of pain morphed into pleasure and he cried out. Cum splattered on the tiles and was quickly washed away. Resting his chin on Castiel’s shoulder, Dean held him steady until he gained his equilibrium back. For a moment or two, neither of them spoke.

Dean grunted softly before releasing Castiel. “We should hurry before we lose the hot water." Castiel reached for the shampoo again and as he was washing his hair, he felt Dean’s hands on him... this time slippery with soap. The scent he’d come to associate with Dean—citrus with a hint of cedar—drifted up to his nose. Dean was gentle but thorough. When he was done, Castiel moved to rinse the suds while he returned the favor. He didn't get to savor the experience as much as he would have liked because the shower had become ice-cold. They stumbled over each other to get the tap turned off and laughed as they somehow managed to grab their towels without falling.

They dried off and dressed in their boxer briefs. Dean raised an eyebrow at the bright orange pair Castiel pulled over his muscular thighs, but didn't comment. Castiel couldn't help humming his appreciation at the way Dean's hugged his body and showed off his assets. "Come on, let's find something to eat," Dean said with a cocky grin as he strode into the hallway.

Castiel leaned against the counter and watched Dean chop and dice, his movements making it obvious that he was comfortable in the kitchen. He couldn't help feeling awe at the man's skills and maybe a small amount of envy. Castiel had always been hopeless when it came to cooking anything more complicated than pushing buttons on a microwave. By the time he was practically drooling over the delicious smells, Dean brought everything to the small bistro table. They sat next to each other to enjoy a meal of home fries, omelets, and crispy strips of bacon. As they ate, the two men shared funny anecdotes about their experiences in the military, and Castiel couldn't help noticing how domestic the scene was... or how much he would love to have this every day.

With a lump in his throat, he stomped down his errant thoughts. Dean might have stepped out of the closet, but sharing a life together... a real commitment... no, Castiel didn't think that would actually happen. He wanted it now more than ever, especially since he had gotten a taste of what his life would be like if Dean stayed in it. And though he wouldn't let himself dwell on the fantasy, he couldn't shake the feeling that wanting it was going to break his heart.

 Dean didn't consider himself overly romantic. Sure, he'd bought girls flowers before and tried to be thoughtful, but washing Cas in the shower... that would have been out of his comfort zone in the past. He blamed it on the fantastic blowjob. Watching Cas take him into his mouth, those pretty lips wrapped around his cock while those gorgeous blue eyes just stared at him... it was fuckin' erotic as hell. He never wanted the man to stop. He tried to imagine what life would be like with shared showers and mind-blowing sex with Cas whenever he wanted it. He was surprised to find that the thought didn't send him into a panic at all.

The easy banter they had before Cas left for Syria was back and, other than a few shy moments after the shower, things between them seemed normal again. He loved how he could just be relaxed around Cas. With most of the women he dated, he felt like he was playing a role. He watched his table manners, made sure to think before he spoke, and always went through a mental checklist of what good dates were supposed to do. It was exhausting... maybe that's why his relationships never really worked out. Being around Cas was nothing like that. He made Dean feel like he could say whatever was on his mind without fearing any judgment... and when it came to giving each other shit, nobody challenged him like Cas did. Dean was starting to feel like the only time he was truly being himself was when he was with Cas, but he thought it was best not to examine that too much.

Cas helped him clean the kitchen and with a brief kiss at the door, he left to go to his place to get dressed for work. Dean watched until the 'Vette disappeared around the corner. Smiling softly to himself, he closed the door and leaned against it. Were they actually a couple now? God, he hoped so.

He beat Cas to the hospital and ran into Benny and Charlie in the locker room when he strolled in. They looked at him expectantly and he scowled. "What?"

"You and Castiel, huh? Didn't see that one coming," Benny said. Dean's stomach plummeted. It must have shown on his face, because Benny quickly added, "I'm happy for you, brother."

"Uh, thanks." Dean still felt uncertain. He didn't think his friends would judge him, but the impulse to hide himself was a hard thing to shake overnight.

Charlie slammed her locker and elbowed Benny. "What this dumb Cajun is trying to say is that we are all glad you found someone who accepts you for who you are. It's nice to see."

"Yeah, what she said," Benny responded, nodding.

At that moment, Cas entered with Jo. "But wouldn't a simple blood test rule that out?"

"Not necessarily," Cas answered. "There are a lot of other variables to consider, such as age, lifestyle choices, and overall health." He looked away from Jo and met Dean's eyes. He smiled and Dean's heartbeat quickened.

"Is this the way it's going to be now?" Jo asked, looking back and forth between them. "You two making goo-goo eyes at each other?"

Dean tried to look stern. "I have never made goo-goo eyes in my life, _Dr. Harvelle_. You might want to remember who has to sign off on all your cases before you're allowed to go home. I might just _forget_ to do it one day." The threat wasn't serious and everyone laughed. Once his co-workers left, Dean waited by the door for Cas. "Guess we're going to get a lot of that."

"What? The teasing?" Cas moved closer, his brow furrowing with concern. "Is that going to bother you?"

"No. Maybe. I don't know," Dean said honestly. "They're my friends and for the most part, I think they'll be okay. It's people like Crowley and the patients that I worry about. We do live in Texas, you know... not really known for things like equality and acceptance."

Cas tilted his head and Dean wanted to kiss him so bad, but he refrained. They were at work and it wouldn't help the situation if they were caught making out in the locker room. "I don't think the patients would pick up on it, Dean." He paused as if thinking. "Do you think Crowley would have an issue with us dating?"

"I don't think so. Even if he did, it wouldn't matter in the long run. There aren't any rules against co-workers dating... otherwise half the staff would be in trouble." He shrugged and nodded his head toward the door. "We should get out there before Benny comes and hunts us down."

They managed to get something to eat together and even shared a coffee break around four in the morning. Dean realized dating Cas wasn't that different from being friends with the guy. They still joked around. They still dished about their worst patients. The only difference was that they had sex. _Really good sex._

"Hey, want to come over to my place after work?" Dean asked Cas near the end of the shift.

"Is that code for _do you want to come over and have sex?_ " Cas' face was blank and Dean opened his mouth to backtrack, but the twinkle in Cas' eyes said he was just teasing him.

"Asshat. You wanna come or what?"

"Definitely come," Cas replied with a wicked grin.

"Wha—? You can't just... _Shut up_ ," Dean said as he felt the heat rising in his cheeks. He knew he was blushing. Damn his freckled skin. Luckily, Cas took pity on him and changed the subject as he pushed open the door to the locker room.

"Do you want to stop for breakfast first?"

"Yeah... sounds good." Dean was never one to turn down food.

They ate at the diner and then made their way back to Dean's house. If Dean were to look too closely at the morning, he would have freaked out at how domestic they'd become in such a short time. Instead of jumping each other's bones the second the door closed, the two men set down their stuff on the front table, toed off their shoes, and strolled into the bedroom like this was something they did every day. As Dean undressed, he watched Cas remove his own scrubs. When they finally embraced each other, they were still in their boxer briefs and the kiss was gentle. He let Cas take the lead, opening his mouth to allow Cas' tongue entry. It was languid and neither felt the need to hurry it along.

 _"I want you,"_ Cas whispered against Dean's mouth. Dean hummed his approval and let his hands roam over Cas' chest, pausing to pinch his nipples. He loved the way Cas was so fucking sensitive there.

"You've got me," Dean replied, his voice soft. Cas looked into his eyes and there was a question there. "You do," he reiterated. Cas gave him a slight smile, closed his eyes, and lowered his mouth again. He loved kissing Cas... the scrape of stubble against his own... the strength behind it... the taste that was currently a mixture of coffee and maple syrup.

When they were finally lying together, Dean was still moving slowly. He wanted to touch and taste every part of Cas. He pushed Cas' thighs apart and gazed down at him. Strangely enough, he hadn't paid attention to the fact that Cas shaved. He still had a heavy bush, but from his sac back, he was completely hairless. He ran the tip of his tongue over the smooth balls, then continued back to the furled skin at his entrance. Cas inhaled sharply at his touch. He looked up and smiled. "Relax, Cas, I got you," he said cheekily.

Within minutes, Cas was writhing on the bed and the sounds coming from him were so sinful, it made Dean want to push his tongue deeper. He pressed a finger inside and Cas' back arched off the bed. " _Oh... God..._ want to ride you... ride your cock... please... _Dean..."_

Dean stopped long enough to grab the lube and condoms from his drawer, but returned to flutter light licks on Cas' hole. "Stop teasing," Cas said, his voice rough with need. Dean delved his tongue inside Cas' tight body once more before slicking up his fingers. Cas was wonderfully pliant and it didn't take long until he was begging to be taken. When he pulled his hand away, Cas moaned in frustration. Dean picked up a pillow to slip under Cas' hips, but Cas surprised him by sitting up. " _No_. I said I want to ride you," he growled as he shoved Dean down onto his back and straddled him.

Taking charge, Cas took the condom from Dean's hand, ripped it open, and rolled it down his length with precision. His own experience with men lacking, there was a fleeting moment of intimidation at how assertive Cas was being. The man knew what he wanted and Dean was incredibly turned on by it. He was determined to make this good for Cas.

Dean couldn't take his eyes off the sight of Cas lowering himself on his cock. Inch by inch, he watched in fascination as his shaft slowly disappeared. The constriction combined with the intense heat made Dean's balls tighten, the image alone almost enough to make him come. He waited until Cas' ass was resting against his hips to venture a look at Cas' face. Eyes closed and skin flushed, his mouth parted slightly... _fuck_ , he was so perfect like this.

Not wanting to hurt Cas, Dean let him set the pace. Cas gripped the headboard above Dean's head and used it as leverage to move his body up and down on Dean's cock. It was excruciatingly slow, but Dean couldn't complain because it felt too damn good. They didn't speak... there wasn't a need for words. Their eyes held and Dean felt something fall into place. For the first time in his life, he felt _whole._

With his hands resting on Cas' thighs, Dean could feel the muscles trembling with fatigue. Dean reached up and wrapped his fingers around Cas' wrists, pulling until he released his grip on the headboard. He interlocked their fingers and with the ease and strength of a fighter, he rolled them. Still joined, Dean adjusted his legs so he could take over. "Smooth, Winchester," Cas whispered.

"Just giving you a break, Novak," Dean retorted with a smug look. Cas' answer was to lift his hips, taking Dean's cock even deeper. The challenge accepted, Dean snapped his hips in a ruthless motion. Cas grunted and his fingers tightened around Dean's hands. No longer holding back, he thrust into Cas over and over. He knew he was nailing Cas' prostate because the man was a gorgeous fucking mess. The moans were downright pornographic and it drove Dean to distraction when Cas threw his head back, exposing the long line of his neck. He was out of control and Dean had never seen anything so beautiful. His breath hitched and Dean felt his heart clench in his chest. "I love..." Dean's eyes widened and he bit back the next word. "...love being inside you."

If Cas noticed Dean's slip-up, he didn't let on. He was too caught up in taking his own pleasure. He tugged his hand away from Dean's grasp and fisted his cock. When he came, his body tightened around Dean's shaft, sending him tumbling over the edge. White heat filled his belly and his heart beat wildly. "Cas... _fuck_..." The intensity of his orgasm made his vision go black for an instant before his senses returned. He was aware that he was shaking, but Cas' hands gently rubbed his arms until he was settled. He lowered his head to kiss Cas softly, their lips barely touching. He drew back enough to see that Cas was looking at him like he hung the fucking moon. Not wanting Cas to see the feelings reflected in his eyes, he pulled out and rolled to the side, landing on his back next to his lover. His... _lover_? _Boyfriend_? He really needed to figure out what they were.

Cas rose and stood by the bed, giving Dean a nice view of his ass. "Where you goin'?"

"Bathroom. Need to get cleaned up."

"We could shower," Dean suggested, but in all honesty, he was exhausted.

"Later," Cas replied and stepped out of sight. Dean removed the condom with a grimace and tossed it into the trashcan next to the bed. A few minutes later, Cas was back with a warm washcloth and Dean let out a contented hum when he felt Cas wiping him clean.

For the second night in a row, Cas was in his bed. This was a huge deal for Dean. He rarely brought his hook-ups to his home and on the few occasions he did, they left right after. No one ever stayed the night and he liked it that way. Lying here with Cas beside him, Dean once again waited for the panic to hit, but it never did. For the first time, he didn't feel the need to run from the person he was with. If he was being honest with himself, he had a sudden urge to get closer... to know more about Cas' life and everything that made him the man he is today. It wasn't something Dean was used to feeling, but he felt it all the same. He turned to face Cas, who was on his belly, one arm tucked under his pillow. His eyes were already closed, but Dean knew he wasn't asleep yet. "Cas?"

"Hmmm..."

"Can I ask you a question?" Cas was suddenly alert and looked at Dean expectantly.

"Sure," he said softly.

Dean took a deep breath and blurted, "Have you ever been with a woman?" Cas' eyes widened at the question and he sat up.

"So, this is going to be one of _those_ conversations."

Needing to be on equal ground, Dean sat up as well. "I'm not sure what you mean by 'one of those' conversations... I was just curious."

"Curious?" Cas quirked an eyebrow. It was meant to be teasing, but Dean could see the hesitation in his eyes.

"Yeah... I just thought... I want to know more about you, that's all." Dean was worried he'd overstepped, but relaxed when he saw Cas' guarded expression soften.

Cas sighed and looked away. "Once. In college. I was trying to... be normal for my father. Her name was Kelly." He stopped talking and Dean waited, knowing Cas was sharing something significant with him. "It was just the one time. She... she developed a crush on me, but I kept putting her off because I wasn’t interested. Then one night, the General called and he was just... relentless... kept going on about my duty and all the ways I was failing him." There was another pause as he seemed to gather himself. "I drank far too much and she was all over me. I just went with it. For a long time, I told myself she knew I was gay, so any fallout from it was on her... but I knew she cared about me and was hurt that I couldn't feel the same way." He turned his incredible eyes to Dean. "It was one fucking time," Cas said, his tone dejected.

"Cas, hey... that was a long time ago, man. She's probably married with kids now. We all did stupid shit in college." Cas' expression told Dean there was more to the story. He wanted to reach over and pull Cas into his arms, but something held him back.

"She got pregnant." The words seemed too loud in the quiet room, but Cas' voice was barely more than a whisper. Dean swallowed and found he didn't have any words. Cas was looking at him like he was awaiting judgment. Dean reached out and took Cas' hand in his. Cas looked down at their joined hands and the tension in his shoulders dropped... maybe it was from defeat or sadness, but Dean thought it was relief. "She had an abortion. She knew we could never be together and that I couldn't love her the way she wanted. I don't fault her for her decision. She did what she needed to do. She wanted to finish med school and join Doctors Without Borders. She couldn't have done any of those things and be a good parent at the same time."

"Would you have kept it?" Dean asked softly, but he already knew the answer.

"Yes," Cas nodded. "I suppose it was for the best. She did everything she wanted to do and then got married... had a son."

After a minute or two of silence, Dean spoke. "Cas, I don't have any words of wisdom or advice for you... but you should know that I think you're a good man. A good man that was young once and did something irresponsible just like every other college kid. But as cliché as this sounds, it takes two. It's not all on you."

The smile was brief and didn't quite reach his eyes, but Cas squeezed his hand. "She's not married anymore and her son, Jack, is a teenager now. She's happy. I just wonder sometimes..."

Dean lay back down, tugging Cas into his arms. He kissed Cas' forehead and felt the tension melt away. They were quiet for a few more seconds, then Dean felt he should say something that he knew Cas needed to hear. "For the record, I think you'd be an awesome dad." Neither one of them had hit the lottery with their parents, but Dean was certain that Cas would be a good father.

Sleep came easy to both of them after their conversation, and when Dean awoke several hours later, it was with a feeling of warmth inside him that he couldn't explain. He spent a few minutes just looking at Cas lying next to him, his face relaxed in sleep. One arm was curled over his head, the other was resting across his flat stomach. _How did a forty-year-old man have abs like that_? Dean was physically fit, but he didn't have a six-pack and wasn't nearly as defined as Cas. He needed to add sit-ups and crunches to his routine. Just when he was about to get up, Cas made a soft sound and his lips curled up in a tiny smile in his sleep. Dean thought back to his close call during sex... he almost told Cas three words he'd never said to anyone but Sam. At the time, he stopped himself because he couldn't possibly be in love this soon. Looking at Cas now, he knew that's exactly what he was feeling and the thought scared the shit out of him.

As if he sensed Dean's eyes on him, Cas blinked and stretched. "Morning... afternoon... whatever."

Dean felt his anxiety leave as he laughed. Night shift had a way of screwing up normal greetings. "Afternoon, Sunshine. Why don't you grab a shower and I'll start the coffee?" It was too early to be thinking about dinner, but he figured Cas would need some caffeine. He threw his legs over the edge of the mattress and popped his neck a couple of times before standing. When he looked down, Cas had his eyes closed again. "No coffee until you wash that nasty ass, Novak."

With lightning-fast reflexes, Cas hit him broadside with a pillow. "You're the one who made it nasty, Winchester." Dean just laughed and stepped into his pajama pants as he left the room. He was pouring water into the coffeemaker when he heard the shower start. He got out two mugs and was reaching for the sugar canister, but the sound of the front door slamming stopped him. Narrowing his eyes, he wondered who it was. Sam? Charlie? No one else would waltz into his house without knocking. He must have forgotten to lock it when they got back from work earlier.

He stepped into the living room and froze. "Leaving your door unlocked is stupid and careless... but then I shouldn't be surprised." John Winchester stood there imperiously. His beard had more gray in it since the last time Dean saw him, but he still didn't look his age. Dean felt the familiar dread of his father's presence and tried to calm the churning in his stomach.

"What are you doing here?" Dean asked, cringing inwardly at his father's hard expression.

"Fine way to greet your father. I see you still haven't learned any respect. You'd think the military would've at least drilled that into your head," John said with a look of disapproval. Dean opened his mouth to respond, but John didn't give him the chance. "As a matter of fact, that's why I'm here... your shameful lack of respect. Do you have anything to say for yourself?"

Dean was thrown and completely confused. "What the hell are you talking about? You—"

"I'm talking about Dr. Bowers, Dean. Do you have any idea what you've done? That man is one of the most prestigious names in emergency medicine and a colleague of mine. If someone like that offers you a job, you act grateful and you take it. You don't cuss them out and hang up like a spoiled, selfish brat." John didn't seem remotely done, but Dean was. He was so fucking tired of not being good enough for John Winchester. He was good enough for Sam, his friends, and the thousands of patients he'd seen over the years. _And he was good enough for Cas._

His spine stiffened and he kept a measured tone. "Really, _John_? That's why you're here?" He saw his father's jaw tighten when Dean used his given name. "I didn't want the job. I _told_ you I didn't want it. But as usual, you didn't give a shit. Just so we're clear, I don't owe you or Bowers a damn thing... especially when both of you seem to think it's perfectly fine to disrespect _me_."

"Now you listen here—" John stepped forward, his voice laced with repressed rage. Dean felt his anger rising and matched his tone.

"No, you listen. I'm happy here..." His next words were cut off when Cas came out of the bedroom wearing nothing but a towel, his chest glistening with drops of water. Despite just stepping out of the shower, the man looked thoroughly well-fucked.

"Dean, is it alright if I borrow..." Cas' voice trailed off when he saw the two men. He took a step backward. Dean was tempted to laugh at the absurdity of the situation, but then he caught sight of his father's face. The man was radiating wrath, the veins bulging in his neck. He was making an effort to appear calm, but he was failing miserably.

"What the hell is _this_?" John gestured at Cas in disgust like he was something stuck to his shoe. Dean bristled at the rudeness but deflated when his father turned a look on him that was filled with revulsion.

"This is... uh... Dr. Castiel Novak." Dean swallowed thickly and couldn't speak around the lump in his throat.

"Care to explain why you have a naked man in your bedroom? What are you, some kind of queer?" Dean couldn't look at him and he felt his shoulders slump in defeat under John's unforgiving glare. "Is this what you've been doing all this time? Is this the reason why you've tanked your career? All for what... so you can take a dick up the ass like some goddamned _faggot_?"

Dean stood there rooted to the spot, trying to rein in his temper. If he could only get through his father's tirade, John would leave and he could get back to his life. He just had to wait it out. As he clenched his fists at his sides, his eyes darted over to Cas to see if he was okay. What he saw nearly broke his heart. Cas was looking at him with so much compassion... and something else. It took a few seconds, but Dean finally recognized it as the same look that was in Cas' eyes the day Dean hurt him... the time when Dean let him down. He wasn't really paying attention to his father's words anymore, his ability to tune him out honed too well over the years.

"You'd better get your priorities straight, Dean. Grow the fuck up and start acting like a real man or so help me God, I will make damn sure _neither_ of you ever work in a hospital again." John pointed angrily in Cas' direction. Threatening Dean was one thing, but when his father threatened Cas, Dean snapped.

He squared his shoulders and rose to his full height, drawing strength from the memory of his promise to Cas. Dean felt his shame bleed into rage and a fire surged from deep within him until he felt like he was about to combust. His eyes blazed and he saw the brief flash of surprise in Cas' expression before he rounded on his father.

 _"That's enough_ ," Dean shouted, his unbridled anger at John Winchester on full display. "How _dare_ you? Do you seriously have the nerve to stand there judging _me_? Tell me... what's it like being a _real man_? I assume it means cheating on your wife, knocking up a stranger, and keeping the kid a secret for sixteen fucking years. Is that what being a _real man_ is?" Dean stared his father down as the man's face paled. Not waiting for a response, Dean let loose, his chest heaving under the strain of releasing decades of pent-up emotions. "All my life, you've pushed and controlled me... made me feel like shit every chance you got. You never hesitate to tell me how worthless I am, that I'm not good enough... well you know what, John? It's _you_ that's not good enough. You're a shitty husband and a horrible father. You don't get to judge me."

The room seemed to be frozen in time. John was struck dumb under the weight of Dean's words, but Dean had a feeling it was more because he'd been caught in his lies than anything else. He should have left it alone, but he didn't want to stop there. Dean walked over to Cas and took him by the hand, then stared into his father's eyes.

"This is Cas. He's my boyfriend. He makes me insanely happy and I'm lucky to have him in my life. If you have a problem with that, don't let the door hit you in the ass on your way out." Dean held his head high in defiance. He glanced over to find Cas gazing at him with such awe, it took Dean's breath away. He was so captivated by the way Cas was looking at him, he didn't notice his father leave the room until the door slammed hard enough to shake the pictures on the wall. Before he had Cas, Dean would have crumbled. With Cas at his side, Dean felt like he was soaring and the only thing he felt at his father's absence was relief.

Before he could draw Cas in, he was pulled into a fierce kiss. Cas' hands were everywhere, his tongue claiming Dean's mouth as his own. Dean let out a breathless moan and melted in his boyfriend's arms. _Boyfriend_... yeah, Dean liked that just fine.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> AO3 seems to be acting up like an unruly toddler this week, so please let us know if you notice any errors.


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> When Amanda and I write, oftentimes, we are both in the document at the same time. We stop on occasion to discuss writing stuff... like how we want a scene to come out or questions like, "Would Dean really say something like that?” 
> 
> While working on this chapter, we also had discussions about cults, bondage, and two-headed llamas. Yes, two-headed llamas. None of that stuff is in this chapter, but that's the way our minds work.
> 
> Warnings: Minor Character Death (we’re sorry!)

Telling Dean about Kelly had been easier than he thought. No one besides Kelly knew about the pregnancy or the abortion. It was a part of his life he wasn't proud of. He watched Dean carefully and there was no judgment, no condemnation, no anger... just understanding and compassion. If he wasn't close to falling for the man before, those few moments gave him that final push into the abyss. 

It was still too soon to be thinking of happily ever after. Dean was just coming to terms with showing the world he was bi, they each had emotional baggage, and to top that off, they were both in a stressful career field and worked together. Only time would tell if they would work out long-term, and Castiel was willing to wait as long as it took to find out. In the meantime, he was quickly learning that waking up with Dean was something he would never find boring. Watching him cover his perfectly sculpted ass with an old pair of pajama pants, Castiel sighed and swung his legs off the bed.

A few minutes later, he stepped out of the shower and swiped a hand across the mirror. His reflection didn't look any different, but he was not the same person he was a week ago. He didn't understand how one man could change his life so much in such a short amount of time... but Dean had done exactly that. In the span of a few days, Castiel had found a missing piece of himself he didn't know he was lacking. The realization that Dean had become such an integral part of him made Castiel feel ecstatic and terrified all at once. 

Pulling himself out of his thoughts, he ran a towel through his hair, then wrapped it around his waist. Since he hadn't been home and didn't have anything clean to put on, he needed to borrow some of Dean's clothes. He didn't want to overstep any boundaries, so he went to ask his permission first. 

As he entered the living room, he was surprised to see another man standing a few yards from Dean. They appeared to be in some sort of face-off and the tension between them was palpable. It didn't take long to figure out that it was Dean's father, John Winchester. Castiel had heard of the renowned doctor... he even wrote a dissertation on one of his most famous cases during medical school. He respected the work John did, but seeing him treat his son so disgracefully left a bitter taste in Castiel's mouth and made his blood boil. The things he was saying to Dean...  _Dean_... the man who would give the shirt off his back to a stranger in need... the most caring, compassionate person Castiel had ever known. It tore at his very soul to see Dean get hurt like this. It wasn't his place to step between them, so the only thing he could do was watch. 

Castiel could see the transformation in Dean. He went from standing tall to shrinking down to nothing within the span of a few minutes. He of all people understood the effect an overbearing father could have on a son... but seeing the way Dean responded was enough to tell Castiel that this was it. What they had was over. Dean had finally gathered the courage to come out and John Winchester had just barged in and destroyed it all. His heart sank at the realization that Dean was never going to live his life freely and find happiness. He wanted that for Dean, even if it ended up being with someone else. 

He needed to retreat... find a way to discreetly return to the bedroom, get dressed, and leave. He took one step backward, but suddenly, Dean looked at him. Castiel doesn’t know what he saw, but whatever it was, Dean's eyes went from being dull and full of sadness to burning with righteous fury. Castiel watched in fascination as Dean stood up for himself. He was  _magnificent_. Dean read the senior Winchester the riot act for having an affair and a secret child, and Castiel reveled in the look of shock on the man's face. But Castiel was overflowing with pride when Dean took his hand and introduced him as his boyfriend to the homophobic bastard. Castiel was so captivated by Dean's words and the adoring look on his face, neither of them noticed John moving until a resounding slam echoed in the silence. 

_His boyfriend._  They hadn't really discussed it, but hearing Dean declare it with such confidence gave Castiel the reassurance he'd been waiting for. He pulled Dean closer, put his hands around his waist, and held him close. Instead of speaking, he needed to show Dean how much he admired him... how happy he was to be called Dean's boyfriend. Castiel tilted his head and gave him a searing kiss that Dean returned with fervor. After several minutes of passionate kissing, Dean pulled back.

"It's okay, right? The thing I said..." He looked apprehensive, like he thought Castiel might have a problem with the label he'd given him. As if that was even a possibility...

He took Dean's face in his hands and held his gaze. "I am so proud of you. And I am honored to be called your boyfriend." Seeing the radiant smile spread across Dean's face was the best feeling. He wanted to move forward, but he needed to be sure it's what Dean truly wanted and not something he only said in the heat of the moment. "But... are you certain this is what you want, Dean? I know it's early and we haven't really been together very long. I don't want you to take any steps you aren't ready for. If you need more time to figure things out..."

"Stop," Dean interrupted. Castiel clamped his mouth shut and held his breath. "I've wanted you since the first time I laid eyes on you under gunfire. And as far as I'm concerned, we've been together a lot longer than this week. It just took me a long time to get my shit together. I want... I mean, we... God,  _why_ can't I talk about this shit?" He paused and ran a hand through his hair in a frustrated movement. Castiel reached out and placed a comforting hand on Dean's shoulder to settle him. 

"It's fine, Dean. We don’t have to get into it now. We have all the time in the world to see where this goes." He smiled encouragingly and decided to take Dean's mind off the difficult afternoon. "Let's get something to eat." He took a step toward the kitchen, but he halted when Dean grabbed his arm.

"No, wait. I want to do this. Just... give me a minute." He closed his eyes and took several deep breaths like he was trying to pull his thoughts together. "Look... I want you...  _us_. I want to be with you all the time and when we're apart, I feel like I can't wait to see you again because the time we get together is never enough. I know you're worried that I'll regret this... coming out and everything. But I need you to know, that's not gonna happen." Before Castiel could respond, Dean continued. "I mean it, Cas. I'm not saying there won't be times when I feel uncomfortable or worried about being judged for loving a man. But don't think for one second that I would ever regret being with you." 

Castiel inhaled sharply and his eyes widened in shock. It sounded like Dean used the L-word, but he couldn't have. Dean didn't love him... did he? Just when Castiel was about to say something, Dean seemed to realize his mistake. His eyebrows shot up and his jaw dropped almost comically. 

"Aw, goddammit," Dean huffed. Castiel frowned in confusion at Dean's reaction. He watched as Dean backed away a few steps, then took a tentative one closer. He opened his mouth, closed it, then opened it again... then closed it. He looked like a fish and if the situation wasn't so serious and monumental, Castiel would have burst out laughing. 

"Dean?" 

"I didn't mean..." At Dean's words, Castiel's face fell and he felt his heart sink. He was right... Dean didn't love him. He tried his best not to let his disappointment show, but he knew it was too late. Dean looked panicked and reached out for him. "No, no, no... Cas, that's not what I'm saying. The problem is that I didn't mean for you to find out like  _that_. I know you probably think it's too fast..." 

"Yes, I do," Castiel interrupted. "And to be honest, I'm scared to death... but Dean, I think I started falling for you the day we met. You saved my life, and I kept telling myself that it was just good old-fashioned hero worship. That my feelings for you could be shoved aside... like packing old memories into a box and out of sight. But the more I got to know you, the harder it got to do that and I fell... and keep falling." Castiel cupped Dean's face and leaned in for a soft kiss. 

He pulled back and Dean grinned shyly. "So, we're doing this boyfriend thing for real then?"

"Definitely. I couldn't put these feelings back in the box if I tried." Dean moved closer and palmed Castiel's jaw. His thumb traced along Castiel's lips. 

"No more boxes... no more closets." This time, the kiss was filled with the lightness that comes with easy affection. "And... _no more towels_ ," he said gruffly. With one quick flick of his wrist, Castiel was naked.

 

Monday's shift was one of the busiest Dean had ever worked. There was a fire in a homeless shelter that resulted in sixteen trauma cases... seven of them died and four were critical and likely to die. Dean felt like he was in a hurricane and hadn't taken a single break for the past eleven hours. He hadn't even seen Cas since they worked on the same patient four hours ago. Normally, he would have been starving at this point, but the sickening-sweet stench of burnt flesh wouldn't leave his nostrils. The last thing on his mind was food. He was hurriedly scrawling chart notations and hoping to steal enough time for a cup of coffee when the ambulance bay doors burst open in a flurry of activity. He headed over, motioning for Benny to follow. 

"I thought we got all the victims from the fire," Dean said absentmindedly. 

"We did. This one's from Oak Park. One of their residents collapsed," Benny explained. Dean felt a rush of anxiety and quickened his steps. 

As soon as he saw the blonde hair, he recognized the patient. He directed his attention to the EMTs and tried to calm the feeling of dread coursing through him. "What do we got?" 

"Female, late sixties, collapsed on her way to breakfast after complaining of shortness of breath, unresponsive..." Dean passively listened as he flipped through her chart to her last ER visit. Cas was her doctor and diagnosed her with atrial fibrillation. Standard treatment had been keeping her condition in check, but at her age, the risk of complications was high. Judging by the symptoms, Dean was fairly certain of the diagnosis, but he didn't want it to be true. 

Once they were in a trauma room, Dean took out his stethoscope and listened to her heart. The beat was irregular and extremely faint... her lungs weren't much better. His examination confirmed his suspicions. Mildred had a pulmonary embolism. He rattled off the dosage for IV Heparin and had Benny page the cardiologist on call. He wouldn't let himself think about the prognosis... 

"I want someone in here at all times to monitor her, do you understand?" Benny nodded as he administered the first dosage of thrombolytics. Dean laid a hand on her head softly and stroked her hair, then cleared his throat and left the room. He had done all he could for now... the rest would be a waiting game to see if she would regain consciousness. His shift was almost over, but he wouldn't leave until he knew Mildred was okay. 

Dean felt numb as he walked toward the breakroom. He needed a quiet place to pull himself together. He was vaguely aware of someone calling his name, but he couldn't respond. He made it to the coffeemaker, but when he went to pour it, his hand was shaking too much. A hand slid past his own and took the pot. He looked up to find Cas at his side.

"It's okay, Dean. I've got it. Why you go sit down for a minute?" With the stress of the burn victims and then seeing Mildred looking so small on the gurney... the woman who was always larger than life when she came in... he felt on the verge of a breakdown. Dean slumped onto the couch and rested his head in his hands. He felt the cushion dip next to him and turned to look at his boyfriend. He wasn't quite used to that word, but he found comfort in it at the moment.

"Thanks, Cas," he said as he took the warm mug. Having Cas there was reassuring, and Dean leaned against him, drawing strength from his steady presence. For the first time since they arrived at work, Dean felt himself relax. "I don't know why this has me so worked up. It's not like I've never lost a patient before." His voice cracked and he sipped his coffee to cover it up. 

"She's special to you," Cas replied. "There's nothing wrong with caring about your patients, Dean. It makes you a better doctor." 

"Does it? Because it sure as hell doesn't feel like I've made a damn bit of difference today. We're supposed to save patients, Cas... not usher them to their deaths." 

"Dean... that's not—" Cas was interrupted by Jo bursting into the room.

"Dean, it's Mildred..." In a flash, Dean was out the door and running down the hall. The monitor alarms were beeping incessantly.  _No_... he wasn't going to lose this one. 

"Prep for a thoracotomy. Give me one milligram of epinephrine stat." No one was moving. Benny should have been at least administering chest compressions. "Come on, people,  _move!_ " 

"Dean," Benny said as he pulled back Dean's hand. "She's got a DNR." He should have expected it. Most elderly patients preferred to sign the Do Not Resuscitate order rather than be kept alive on machines.  He couldn't do anything to help her... he had to just stand here and watch her die. No goodbyes... no last words... nothing. It was the worst feeling for a doctor, especially one used to battlefield conditions. There was always something to be done, always some loophole or creative way around limitations. To be stopped by a stupid piece of paper enraged Dean. This was Mildred... she was strong. He flexed the muscles in his jaw as he looked at Benny. His job was to fight for his patients and save their lives, not bow down to a bunch of suits with law degrees. 

"Get the hell off me, Benny." Dean yanked his hand out of Benny's grasp. "We're saving this one. You can either help me or get the fuck out." 

"Dean, if you lay one hand on her, your career is over. You know that." Benny was looking at him with pity in his eyes, but his posture was rigid like he was prepared to restrain Dean if necessary. "I'm not gonna let you do this, brother. Let her be. It's her time." 

Dean squared off, ready for the confrontation he knew was coming. Then he looked over at Mildred and all the energy drained from him in a single breath. She wasn't struggling for air, her body was relaxed as if in sleep, and she wasn't in any pain. She looked... peaceful. He leaned on the gurney, his hand clenching around the edge. Benny reached over to switch off the alarms and asked everyone to clear out, leaving Dean alone at her bedside. He knew she most likely couldn't hear him, but he wanted to say goodbye anyway.

"Mildred... Millie..." Dean's eyes started to burn with unshed tears. He took her hand and held it between both of his. "I know you're ready to leave us, but I'm not ready for you to go. You know you're my favorite patient... you always were, you crazy flirt." He huffed a weak laugh as he thought about all the times she grabbed his ass and pretended it was an accident... all the times he visited her at the retirement home... he'd bring her flowers and she'd call it a date. "You said you didn't have any family, but you should know... you were part of mine." 

The line on her heart monitor went flat and Dean knew she was gone. He leaned down and placed a kiss on her forehead and clenched his jaw, determined not to shed any tears. Benny had been just outside the door and came in so Dean could call it. "Time of death six fifty-three a.m."

Dean laid Mildred's hand on her chest and left without another word. Feeling the need to escape, he went to the locker room, grabbed his stuff, and went straight out to his car. He threw it in gear and floored it as fast as he could. 

Within minutes, he was home. In the kitchen, he took out a glass and grabbed the nearest bottle, giving it a cursory glance. The Kentucky's Old Reserve had been sent to him last Christmas from his father's secretary when John couldn't make it home for the holidays. Dean thought it was the perfect choice given his present state of mind. He twisted off the cap and went to pour it, then decided to leave the glass behind and headed for his room. Sitting on the edge of his bed, he twisted off the top and downed as much as he could without choking. He'd been mostly sober since the day Cas left.  _Cas_. God, he was probably wondering what happened to him. In his haste to get away, Dean forgot about their ritual of breakfast at the diner. He looked at the amber liquid and swirled it around. 

What would Mildred say if she saw him now? He thought of the older woman as a friend, but a part of him always wished his mother was more like her. After particularly disappointing calls with Mary, Dean often found himself indulging in the fantasy... wondering what his life would have been like if he'd had a mother like Mildred. She would have had cookies ready for him when he got home from school. She would have sat with him and helped with his homework. She wouldn't have been alone in a fucking retirement facility if she was his mom. Life wasn’t fair. 

He brushed at the tear that ran down his cheek and took another swig before screwing the top back onto the bottle and stood. The lack of food and the high amount of alcohol combined with his exhaustion and grief made him stagger. He sank to his knees by the door, wrapped his hands around the knob, and let his forehead rest on the wood. He was so fuckin' tired.

Castiel pulled into Dean's driveway and took a few minutes to steady himself. He had seen plenty of doctors grieve the loss of special patients during his career, himself included. But this was different... Dean was his boyfriend. Someone he loved dearly was hurting and he knew there was nothing he could do to fix it. He took one more deep breath, then opened the car door and headed inside. The door was ajar, so he didn't bother knocking.

The house was quiet... too quiet. He moved down the hall and stopped near Dean's bedroom, taking in the sight before him. Dean was on his knees, holding onto the doorknob like a lifeline. He was so still. Just inside the room, he saw a half-empty bottle of whiskey on the floor. Castiel moved with silent steps and knelt down, then wrapped his arms around him. Almost reluctantly, Dean let go and allowed Castiel to pull him close. He cupped the back of Dean's head and held him tight. For a minute, Dean kept his arms rigid, then slowly wound them around Castiel's waist and went lax in Castiel's arms. 

Castiel listened to Dean breathe. Every once in a while, there was a hitch and shudder, but he didn't speak. Castiel knew Dean would talk when he felt like it. It was his job to make sure Dean knew he was not alone. The minutes ticked by and finally, Dean released a long exhale and raised his head. Castiel caressed his face and bent down to place a gentle kiss on his lips. Dean stared back at him with unfocused eyes. He wasn't drunk, but he was definitely foggy. Castiel needed to get him to lay down. He stood and offered a hand.

"Come on... let's get some sleep." Castiel helped him to his feet and guided him back to sit on the bed. Dean was pliant, his chin resting on his chest. While he sat numbly, Castiel bent down and removed Dean's shoes and socks, then his scrubs. He stripped off his own clothes and climbed into bed. He pulled Dean down beside him and said the only thing he knew would help. "It's not your fault."

Dean's eyes darted up to look at him with a look of disbelief. Castiel wanted to comfort him, but he wasn't sure what Dean needed. He followed his instincts and kissed him again, pouring into it all the devotion and compassion that he had. He felt Dean's need in the hard push of his lips. Castiel didn't want to hold back physical affection, but he wasn't sure it was a good idea given Dean's present condition. He backed away from the kiss. "Dean, I don't think we should..." 

" _Please_ ," Dean breathed. " _Please, Cas_..."

Dean was suffering, and Castiel could help him at least forget for a while. He couldn't turn him away... not like this. He rolled over and draped his body across Dean's, kissing him as though he could shield his lover from all the pain and grief in the world. 

Castiel reached into the nightstand and found what he was looking for. Dean watched his every move, his hands slowly moving up and down Castiel's ribs. At the pop of the cap, Dean closed his eyes and whispered, "Need you inside of me, Cas."

"You're sure?" Castiel asked, his tone soft, as if to calm a wild animal. Dean simply nodded and spread his legs. He lovingly fingered Dean open, making sure he paid attention to each hitched breath... each roll of Dean's hips. He'd yet to open his eyes again, but his whispers of Castiel's name over and over again let him know that Dean was still with him. 

" _Now_ ," Dean pleaded and Castiel eased his fingers from Dean's slick hole. Pausing to look down at the gorgeous man trusting him with so much, Castiel rolled on the condom and leaned over him. 

"Dean, open your eyes." He needed Dean to see the love he knew was shining in his eyes. Dean blinked and gazed at him with a desperate longing. Without hesitation, Castiel pressed Dean's thighs wider and then guided the head of his cock to Dean's entrance. 

Holding eye contact, Castiel sank into Dean's tight heat slowly. The sound of Dean's soft moan, coupled with the sight of his own feelings reflected in his lover's eyes, sent Castiel's pulse racing. He longed to drive into him, but it wasn't the right time for that. This moment was about comforting Dean and giving him all the love he deserved. He briefly wondered if Dean was aware that he already held Castiel's heart in the palm of his hand. 

Castiel rocked in and out of Dean with languid motions, his pace just slow enough to please, but not enough to drive them over the edge. Dean's hands roamed over his back as he urged Castiel on with soft whispers and sighs. Castiel held steady, refusing to increase his speed or intensity. He wanted to stretch the tenderness of this moment for as long as possible. 

Propped on one elbow, Castiel's body was draped over Dean's, their foreheads pressed together as their bodies slid against each other. He adjusted his angle to drag over Dean's prostate with each unhurried thrust. Dean was starting to pant and his skin was flushed, making his freckles stand out in the dim lighting. He was a vision and being able to see him like this took Castiel's breath away. 

"Cas... I need..." Dean was almost whimpering. 

"Shh... I know, baby. I've got you." Castiel reached down and took Dean's cock in hand, stroking him in time with his movements. He lowered his head and brought his lips to Dean's. He ran his tongue across them and Dean opened. Castiel tasted the bitterness of the whiskey and closed his eyes. He never wanted to see that kind of pain in his lover's face ever again... but if he did, Castiel knew that he would be there for Dean, just like he was now.

Dean's hips began moving faster, lifting to meet each and every thrust. His hands swept over Castiel's back, coming to rest on his waist. Castiel lifted his mouth and looked down between them. Seeing his hand wrapped around Dean's shaft made him groan with satisfaction. " _God_... you're perfect..." He sensed Dean was close when his breaths became gasps, so Castiel quickened his pace.

"Oh...oh...  _Fuck_...." Dean's back arched under him and his head fell back, baring his throat. Castiel watched in awe as his lover came undone beneath him. Dean's body tightened around his cock... fingertips dug into Castiel's skin... legs clenched around him... it was too much.

"Dean..." He barely breathed the name before he was lost, his orgasm coursing through him as he buried himself in the man he adored. For a while, they held onto each other, neither ready to let go yet. 

Later, after Castiel had gently cleaned up his boyfriend and settled back into bed, Dean rolled toward him and rested his head on Castiel's shoulder, his arm slung over Castiel's chest. "Thanks, Cas," he murmured.

"I'm here for you, Dean. Whatever you need, whenever you need it." Castiel wanted to say more. He had to tell Dean what he was feeling, but he didn't know how. He'd never said those three words before... at least, not in a romantic way. What he felt for Dean seemed too big... like it was more than words could adequately express. Should he just come out and say it? How would he even build up to it? Saying  _I love you_ shouldn't be this daunting. He took a deep breath. "Dean..."

"Hmm?"

"I told you once that I felt a connection with you the first time we met. Even though we had...  _difficulties_ before I left for Syria, I'd like to think that we've put all of that behind us... that we've moved forward in our... relationship."

"Uh-huh..." Dean's voice was muffled, but Castiel pushed onward. 

"I think... no, that's not right... I  _know_ that I love you, Dean. And I want to spend the rest of my life making you happy." His heart was pounding and he held his breath. When the silence stretched to the point of being intolerable, he whispered, "Dean?"

He looked down at his boyfriend's face, then rolled his eyes at the ceiling and huffed out his annoyance. He'd just offered his heart to Dean on a silver platter and the assbutt had fallen asleep. 


	10. Chapter 10

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this one took so long. Amanda and I have had real life rear its ugly head. We got out our whips and chains and beat it into submission though.
> 
> FROM AMANDA:  
> I second that apology. Real life has no business getting in the way of our gay porn and I am deeply sorry I couldn’t stop it. Also, I am 100% on board with the whips and chains. ;-)

Dean opened his eyes to the feeling of warmth all around him... the soft blanket draped over his legs... the man of his dreams wrapped around him. It was perfect. He smiled to himself and took a minute to enjoy the sight of Cas as he slept. The man was beautiful... Dean felt like he could never say it enough. He reached out and brushed a strand of hair off Cas' brow, then carefully extracted himself without waking him. On his way to the kitchen, Dean heard the distant buzzing of his cell phone and found it on the counter. He must have left it there when he went in the liquor stash. 

A stab of pain shot through his chest when he remembered why. Mildred was gone. He was saddened by the thought, but quickly shifted his focus to answering his phone. "Hey, Sammy." He tucked the phone between his shoulder and chin as he reached for the canister of coffee.  

"Hey... Charlie told me what happened. How're you doing? Need anything? I could come over..."  

"Nah... I'm good. I've got Cas here." Dean couldn't help feeling the soft contented smile when he thought about the gentle way Cas made love to him earlier that morning. But there was something tugging at his mind...  _d_ _id Cas say he loved him_? Dean couldn't be sure, but he vaguely remembered hearing the words as he drifted off to sleep. Or was he dreaming? Before he could decide if his mind was playing tricks on him, Sam's voice pulled him back to the present. 

"You sure? We could sneak into the morgue before your shift. I've got an extra cadaver stashed there if you want to play a realistic game of Operation." Sam didn't even sound like he was joking. 

"Why do you have... You know what? Never mind. I don't want to know." Dean heard Sam's chuckle and rolled his eyes in exasperation. "Since I've got you on the phone... there's something we should talk about..." Dean recounted the whole story about their father, briefly mentioning Cas' involvement, and went silent as he waited for Sam to respond. Almost a minute went by, and just when Dean was about to ask if his brother was okay, Sam finally spoke.  

"Dean... no way any of that actually happened..." Sam was either in disbelief or really fucking dumb. 

"I swear on the Bible, it's all true."  

"You don't read the Bible, Dean," Sam said dryly. 

"Okay, fine... I swear on Baby then. Ask Cas if you don't believe me." Dean should have seen it coming, but he was so caught up in convincing Sam he was telling the truth, he didn't even think about what he'd said. 

"Wait, wait, wait... Cas was there... and I almost missed the whole naked in a towel thing when you told your story. Real clever of you to gloss over the important details, by the way. But I feel like I have to ask... what was Cas doing at your house... naked... in a towel?"  

"Uh..." Dean replied intelligently.  

"I'd have given anything to see Dad's face. I take it you finally got your head out of your ass?" Trust Sam not to beat around the bush... 

"Yes, Sammy... My head is no longer in my ass and is firmly on my strong, very manly shoulders. Can we skip the chick-flick shit?" 

"Fine. What are you gonna do about Dad?" 

"I got no clue... I would rather get my testicles pierced than talk to that bastard again any time soon." Dean also knew there was no way John would answer the phone if he called.  

"Better you than me, bro. Look, I have to get going. Want to meet up between shifts? We could grab a bite at the diner. You could bring Cas." Sam's teasing tone was obvious, but Dean decided not to take the bait. Instead, he chose to make Sam uncomfortable. 

"Sure. But he tends to get a little handsy any time bacon is near. As long as you don't mind a little groping..." 

"And on that note, I'm out." Sam hung up and Dean felt like his duty as a big brother had been fulfilled. He started a pot of coffee and was getting two cups from the cabinet when his phone beeped with a text notification. 

 **Text from Benny** **/** **3:46PM**  –  _Oak Park called. Mildred's funeral_ _on_ _Thurs. @ 2pm._   

Dean felt his sadness come rushing back in. The call with Sam had been a nice distraction, but now all he could think about was the fact that he would never get to see Millie again. He leaned on the counter and took a few deep breaths. He heard Cas stirring and went back to making their coffee.  

Dean's train of thought returned to Cas' confession. He couldn't recall everything Cas said, but he was fairly certain there was an  _I love you_  in the mix. It was a pretty big deal and he was curious to see what Cas would be like in the aftermath. Dean could relate. He hadn't said the words specifically... his slipped out by accident. The situation wasn't exactly the same, but he remembered the dread he felt when he was waiting for Cas to react. Just then, his sleep-rumpled boyfriend came shuffling into the kitchen. His pajama pants hung low on his hips and his hair was a wreck. Dean thought he looked incredible. Cas drifted over to him like he was on autopilot and Dean pulled him into a hug.  

"Good morning, Sunshine. Sleep well?" Cas grunted his answer. Dean would bet his left nut that Cas was still half-asleep. The man was  _not_ a morning person. He gently pushed Cas away and picked up his cup of coffee. "Here you go, Mr. Grumpy-pants. I made it 'specially for you." Cas took the cup from him, tested the temperature and drank it like his life depended on it.   

"Thank you, Dean," Cas finally spoke. 

 

Castiel woke to an empty bed, and he could hear Dean's voice drifting from another part of the house. A second of panic jump-started his heart, but the even tone told him Dean was okay. He closed his eyes again... maybe a few more minutes. The lure of coffee finally got him up and he stumbled into the kitchen. Dean was leaning against the counter and he walked right into his arms.  

It was only after the caffeine began coursing through his veins that he remembered his confession last night. From the way Dean was acting, he definitely hadn't heard Castiel when he poured his heart out. He told himself it was okay. No harm, no foul, right?  _Right_. He had the sudden impulse to get away so he could lick his wounds in private. He didn't blame Dean... it wasn't his fault he fell asleep. It didn't make it any easier to face his fear of sharing his feelings again. It was hard enough the first time. He needed to go home and take some time to figure out what to do next.  

Dean was flipping the last of the pancakes when Castiel shared his decision with Dean. "I need to head over to my place after we eat." Dean looked up sharply. 

"Why? You have a set of clean scrubs here. I thought we'd just hang out this afternoon. Maybe get in some time at the gym. I have to teach my class tomorrow and if you go now, we won't be able to do anything until Friday." 

"We'll see each other at the funeral Thursday." 

"Yeah, but..." Dean paused and seemed to be working through something in his head. Castiel would love nothing more than to spend every waking hour with Dean, but not today. Today, he needed to be alone. Dean took the pancakes off the stove and switched it off. "Okay, that's cool. I should really do some laundry and yardwork."  

"Good... I'll just go get dressed." Castiel turned away from Dean's disappointed expression and left before he started second-guessing himself. He got to Dean's bedroom and took a deep breath. The right time would come and when it did, he'd be ready. He emerged to find Dean pouring him a glass of orange juice. He paused to take in the sight. Castiel found it curious that someone who cared for him was anticipating his needs. Growing up, his needs were met by household staff, but never a loved one. It was a foreign concept to Castiel, but he was discovering that he liked it. He was also learning that it wasn't something he would be able to give up easily. As he sat down, he looked over to find Dean smiling at him with so much open affection, he decided that it was well worth the effort to try again.  

That night, his shift seemed to drag on forever. It was a slow night and since it was Dean's day off, Castiel felt out of sorts. He was daydreaming instead of doing his charts when Benny slapped his hands on the counter. "Wake up," he said loudly, causing Castiel to jump.  

"I'm awake," he said irritably.  

Benny sobered and leaned on his elbows next to him. "How's Dean?" 

"Fine... he's had a rough week."  

"Yeah... Millie was a fixture around here. We all adored her, but Dean... well, Dean was her favorite. He called her every week to make sure she was okay, sent her flowers on Mother's Day, even took a ballroom dancing class with her once." Hearing Benny's words sent a rush of sadness through Castiel. He wasn't surprised at Dean's fondness for the older woman, and he was starting to understand the depth of her loss. Benny leaned closer. "He doesn't talk about his parents much, but reading between the lines, his mom was no June Cleaver." 

"Dean is a good man," he said softly, more to himself than Benny. He purposefully ignored Benny's observation about Dean's mother. He didn't know the woman and wasn't comfortable discussing Dean's family without his permission. If Dean's mother was anything like his own, he could understand why Dean would become attached to someone like Mildred.  

"I agree with you on that, brother. And you should know... he wasn't himself while you were gone. I hope you know what you got there." 

"I do," Castiel asserted. Benny gripped his shoulder for a moment and then left to answer a nurse call button from the triage area. Castiel turned back to his charts and forced himself to concentrate. 

He went home Wednesday morning and stopped just inside the door of his apartment. It was depressing after being in Dean's cozy home. Should he call? Dean would be awake. Most night shift employees kept the same schedule even on off days. He pulled a Coke from the fridge and stared out the dingy window at his view of the complex's parking lot. He was being stupid. So what if Dean didn't hear his declaration of love? Mind made up, he picked up the phone. Dean answered on the second ring. 

"Cas, hey." Dean's voice sounded hesitant.  

"Hello, Dean. I'm at my apartment and just realized how lonely I am without you." There. Not quite an _I love you_ , but close. His comment was met with silence. He closed his eyes and hung his head.  _Shit_. 

"Get your ass over here then. And pack extra clothes." Castiel smiled to himself and grabbed a bunch of clean laundry out of the basket on the couch. He already kept an extra toothbrush and razor at Dean's. He tossed everything in a gym bag and was almost out the door when he remembered his suit for the funeral. He'd trimmed down since the last time he wore it and his nicer ones were still packed in boxes. It would have to do.  

Dean was waiting for him, dressed in sleep pants and nothing else. If he wasn't so tired, he'd have pinned Dean to the floor. Instead, he pulled Dean into a deep embrace and stayed there for several minutes. Dean didn't say anything about Castiel's sappiness. He just led him to bed and held him tight until they both fell asleep. After several refreshing hours of restful sleep, they woke up to take a shower and exchange lazy kisses. When things became more heated, Dean wrapped his hand around both their cocks and stroked until they came together. It wasn't an earth-shattering orgasm, but it was perfect in its casual simplicity.  

Over dinner, they shared stories about their most bizarre patients and ended up laughing until Dean nearly choked. They moved to the couch and watched mindless television until it was time for Castiel to leave. Dean walked him to the door and hesitated like he wanted to say something. Castiel placed a soft kiss on his lips and a warm hand on his chest. "I'll be back in the morning." He watched Dean's shoulders relax and with a final kiss, he left for work.   

Thursday morning, Castiel went straight to Dean's and they slept until it was time for the funeral. It was the first time he'd seen Dean in a suit. He looked gorgeous and for a moment, Castiel wished he was taking Dean somewhere romantic instead of to a funeral. Dean looked up from the tie in his hands and noticed Castiel watching him. Then his eyes moved down Castiel's body and he licked his lips.  

"Damn, Cas... you should wear suits more often," Dean said as Castiel reached out to take his tie. He looped it around Dean's neck and began tying a Windsor knot. 

"Funny... I was just thinking the same thing about you." He glanced up find Dean staring at him with an unreadable look. Castiel tightened the knot and adjusted the length. "Actually, I was thinking that I wish I was taking you somewhere nice instead of..." 

"Yeah, me too," Dean interrupted. He took a last look in the mirror then took Castiel by the hand and led them out the door. Dean was quiet during the drive, but he never loosened his hold on Castiel.   

The funeral itself was a somber event. The entire night shift seemed to be in attendance as well as a few residents and caregivers from the retirement home, but there were no family members. Castiel was taken by surprise when the funeral director called on Dean to give the eulogy. He shared a few personal stories, then read a poem by Rabindranath Tagore. Castiel recognized it from his family's vast collection of classic literature. He couldn't imagine a more perfect selection for Mildred. He fixed his gaze on Dean and listened to him read in the low baritone Castiel had grown to love. 

 _"_ _It_ _was beautiful as long as it lasted_    
_The journey of my life._    
_I have no regrets whatsoever_    
_S_ _ave the pain I'll leave behind._    
   
_Those dear hearts who love and care..._    
_And the strings pulling at the heart and soul..._    
_The strong arms that held me up_    
_When my own strength let me down."_  

Dean's eyes darted to Castiel and back down to the page. He took a deep, steadying breath before continuing.   
   
_"At every turning of my life,_    
_I came across good friends,_    
_Friends who stood by me,_    
_Even when the time raced me by._    
   
_Farewell, farewell my friends_    
_I smile and bid you goodbye._    
_No, shed no tears for I need them not_    
_All I need is your smile._    
   
_If you feel sad, do think of me_    
_F_ _or that's what I'll like when you live_    
_I_ _n the hearts_ _of those you love,_    
_R_ _emember then..._ _you never die."_  

In the silence that followed, Dean closed the slim book and slipped it back into the pocket of his jacket, then returned to his seat and wiped a hand over his eyes. Castiel reached over and took Dean's hand, then began to consider his own mortality. Who would show up to lay him to rest? His parents, probably... more from a sense of duty than devotion. Until recently, he didn't have the type of friends who would take time out of their busy lives for a funeral. Things were different now... he had Dean and, by extension, Sam. He was sure Charlie, Benny, and all the others at S.A.M. would be there. As depressing as his train of thought was, he took comfort in knowing he had chosen a family he could count on. His hand gripped Dean's tighter. Dean had changed his life in so many ways... and all of them had been for the better.  

Cas wasn't himself. Dean couldn't put his finger on it, but he seemed  _off_. His suspicions were confirmed when Cas suggested he go to his own place. He racked his brain and knew, for once, he hadn't done anything wrong. Dean was disappointed that Cas was leaving. With their schedules, Dean was out for the next two days while Cas worked... which meant that he wouldn't get to see him until the funeral.  

Dean let him go with a soft goodbye kiss and looked around the house. He had a few chores to keep him busy for an hour or so. Dean was a neat freak and there wasn't much cleaning to be done. He opened the cabinet under the sink as his phone rang, saving him from scouring the floor. The nursing home's number appeared on the screen. "Hello," Dean answered.  

"Dr. Winchester, this is Nurse Jacobs from Oak Park. I wanted to let you know that Mildred's memorial service will be tomorrow afternoon at two. I know how close you both were and I wanted to see if you would feel comfortable doing her eulogy." 

"Oh, wow, uh... I'm not sure if I'm the right person for the job."  

"Before you decide, would you be willing to come to the home this evening? Mildred had her final wishes in order and there was an envelope addressed to you in her belongings. I'm not pressuring you. I just thought you should know... she loved you dearly." Dean pinched the bridge of his nose.  

"Yeah, sure. Give me thirty minutes." He hung up and blew out a frustrated breath. It wasn't that he didn't want to speak at Mildred's funeral... he just wasn't sure that he could.  

He'd been to Oak Park many times over the last few years. He stopped at the reception desk and was told that Nurse Jacobs was waiting in Millie's room. He put his hands in his pockets and walked down the halls. As nice as the facility was, one couldn't escape the smell of stale urine, talcum powder, and the lingering stench of those who'd been forgotten.  

Nurse Jacobs, a middle-aged brunette, looked up when he paused at the door. The room didn't look the same. Cardboard boxes sat on the stripped bed, Millie's favorite painting leaning next to them. "Thank you for coming, Dr. Winchester." 

"Please, call me Dean." They made small talk for a few minutes and then the nurse handed Dean the envelope. The aroma of Millie's perfume touched his nose and he shoved the letter in his back pocket. He wanted to open it when he was somewhere private. "So, is anyone coming to get her stuff?" He asked, picking through a small stack of books. 

"We will store it and wait until her attorney calls. He was notified of her passing. She had a will on file with him."  

"Good... that's good." Dean thumbed open the book on top. It was a book of poetry. He was getting ready to set it back down when he saw a slip of paper marking a place. It was a poem by Rabindranath Tagore. He read through it and smiled. It was so  _Millie_. "Can I borrow this book?" 

The nurse smiled softly. "I'm sure Mildred wouldn't have minded."  

"About the eulogy... I'll do it."  

She nodded. "Thank you. It would have meant a lot to her. I found this on her nightstand." She opened one of the boxes and a small framed picture was placed in his hands. He grinned. He gave Millie the framed photo on Mother's Day two years ago. It was of the two of them having lunch at Millie's favorite restaurant. He took her out and even brought her a bouquet of flowers. He touched the glass, remembering the day fondly. As he stood among the things Mildred left behind, Dean felt reassured in his decision to speak at her funeral. It would be difficult, but Millie deserved to be honored by someone who loved her. 

Later that night, he passed the time watching old movies and waiting to hear from Cas. The hours ticked by with no calls or texts from his boyfriend. Discouraged but mainly confused, Dean pulled the curtains against the early morning sun and crawled into bed. He curled in on his side and hugged Cas' pillow to his chest. His phone rang and he reached for it. Cas' image stared back at him. Keeping his voice neutral, Dean answered. "Hey, Cas."  

"Hello, Dean. I'm at my apartment and just realized how lonely I am without you." Dean leaned back against his headboard, smiling stupidly.  

"Get your ass over here then. And pack extra clothes." Dean held the phone long after they hung up. When he heard the car in the driveway, he jumped out of bed and met Cas at the door. There was a lot more than affection in the embrace they shared, but neither man felt the need to comment on it. He still didn't know what was going on with Cas, but they were together and that's all that mattered.  

Thursday rolled around and Dean was dreading the funeral. It made things final and drove the point home that Millie was really gone. Throughout the whole ordeal, Cas had been his rock. Somehow, he knew that Dean didn't want to talk about anything serious and their hours together were spent trading crude jokes and sharing one terrific handjob in the shower.  

Dean knew he looked pretty damn good in a suit. He eyed himself in the mirror and then banged on the closed bathroom door. "Jeez, Cas, you gonna take all freakin' day?" There was a muffled response and Dean muttered, "Worse than any woman, I swear..."  

He couldn't decide which tie to wear and ultimately decided on a charcoal grey one with green stripes. Dean hated wearing ties and he usually screwed up several times before he got the length right. He was about to put it on when he heard the bathroom door open. He turned to see Cas staring at him. As he took in the sight of his boyfriend, his mouth went drier than any desert in the Middle East. Cas' suit wasn't anything special... in fact, it was loose-fitting and did nothing to accentuate the sexy body Dean knew was underneath. But he was used to seeing Cas in scrubs or casual clothes and he always had a perpetual five o'clock shadow. Now his bedhead was tamed, his face was clean-shaven, and the suit gave him a polished appearance Dean hadn't seen before. The man looked  _hot_  and Dean wanted to get his hands on him and rumple his perfectly styled hair. Unfortunately, this wasn't the time.  

"Damn, Cas... you should wear suits more often." He at least had time to compliment the guy. Cas took his tie and started tying it for him.  

"Funny... I was just thinking the same thing about you," Cas replied. It was strange to have someone else doing this for him. Cas went about the intimate act so naturally, it felt as though it had always been this way. Dean suddenly realized that he was less antsy now... more grounded and calm than he'd been all day. He wondered if that was Cas' intention all along. "Actually, I was thinking that I wish I was taking you somewhere nice instead of..." 

"Yeah, me too," Dean said, cutting off the rest of what Cas was going to say. He couldn't hear the word  _funeral_  again. He took Cas' hand and headed out the door to face what was ahead.   

During the drive to the memorial service, Dean kept glancing over at Cas, trying to put his finger on what was unsettling him. He had already done his best to blame it on the funeral, but even now, he knew better. This was something that had been building for a while and had made him feel spun out for weeks. He felt Cas squeeze his hand and for some inexplicable reason, it hit him like a bolt of lightning and his other hand tightened on the wheel.  _He loved Cas_. He couldn't say exactly when it happened, but Dean was certain and felt the truth of it down to his very core. He loved Cas and wanted to spend the rest of their lives together. Now, all Dean had to do was figure out a way to nut up and tell him.   

Dean was quiet and appropriately reflective as they walked into the room, but he felt like turning around and heading to the nearest bar as fast as humanly possible... anything to leave behind the cloying scent of flowers. He had only been to a couple of funerals in his life, but he hated everything about them. The musty smell, the air in the room thickened by grief, the sound of muffled crying... it all made him feel claustrophobic and like he couldn't take a deep enough breath. Yet, here he was... a loyal friend about to pay his respects to the dead body of the most alive person he'd ever met. It seemed so ridiculous, Dean could almost laugh... and he would have if his own heart wasn't so weighed down by the loss of someone who meant so much to him.  

The casket was on display at the front of the room. Dean couldn't bring himself to go near it. He didn't want to think about the fact that Mildred's lifeless body was inside. He pulled Cas' hand and they took seats near Benny and Jo. The director of the funeral home stood at the podium and asked everyone to be seated. Nurse Jacobs nodded to him and he stood. Cas looked up at him quizzically. Dean forgot to mention his trip to the nursing home and his agreement to do the eulogy. He gave Cas' hand a squeeze before he let go and stepped to the front of the room.  

Dean gazed out at all the familiar faces. These people were his family... and Millie's. He cleared his throat. His palms were sweaty as he pulled the small book out of his jacket pocket and set it on the podium. He looked at Cas. Public speaking was never his thing, so he focused on the one person in the room who really knew him.  

"The first time I met Millie, I was an intern. It was only my second or third week at S.A.M. and I was having a hard night. I was nearing my breaking point when the chief resident handed me Millie's chart and told me to handle this one on my own. I was so eager, I didn't even ask why he did it. Within the first ten seconds of meeting Millie, I figured it out. I leaned over to listen to her heart, and without a second's hesitation, she smacked me so hard on my ass, I squealed." There were a few chuckles and Dean straightened his shoulders. He saw Cas' encouraging smile and it gave him strength. "I stepped back to tell her what's what and she just looked at me with a twinkle in her eyes and said, 'There. Now that pretty face isn't frowning anymore.' For the first time all week, I laughed. And from then on, Millie was my favorite patient." Dean paused to take in a few deep breaths before he could continue.  

"But Millie was more than a patient. She was my friend. I didn't go visit her out of guilt or charity... I went because she was freakin' awesome. The dame knew how to have fun and no one played better pranks than she did." Dean looked around until he found Nurse Jacobs. "Ms. Jacobs, you didn't know it, but Millie loved to steal the office supplies from your desk. To be honest, I have several of your staplers at my house from all the times she stole them and demanded I smuggle them out like it was the heist of the century." There was a ripple of laughter in the room and he waited for it to fade. "She was hilarious. And she knew exactly when I was stressed out and needed some fun or when I was too serious and needed to do something stupid. She was a good friend... the best kind of friend. The kind that never asks for more than you can give and gives you what you never had to ask for."  

He closed his eyes, then opened them and willed himself to look at the casket. "Millie, you were an incredibly talented broad, a relentless flirt, and a great friend. You will be missed, but never forgotten." Dean opened the book to the selected page and cleared his throat. "Before we say our final goodbyes, I'd like to read a poem I found in Millie's collection." In a clear voice, he began to read. When he was done, he closed it and walked back to his seat. Soft music began to play and six of his co-workers stood to act as pallbearers. Benny, looking out of place in a dark brown suit, led them down the aisle. As they disappeared through a side door, Cas leaned against him. 

"She would have loved your words, Dean." 

"I'm gonna miss her..." Cas didn't respond. He just put his arm around Dean and they sat silently as the room emptied. It was over.  _Millie was gone_. 

 


	11. Chapter 11

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> With Amanda's surgery and my travel days for work, this chapter is a little late and a little short. We are hoping to make up for it next week.

 

Dean picked at the soup and sandwich Cas made him, his appetite practically nonexistent. He sensed Cas' eyes on him, but he didn't feel like engaging at the moment. Millie had only been in the ground a couple of hours and it seemed like the day had lasted an eternity. He wanted nothing more than to crawl into bed and sleep the rest of the night... but he had to go to work. Cas tried to convince him to switch shifts with somebody, but Dean needed the demands of work to keep his mind busy. 

"Dean?" Cas was looking at him with a worried expression. Dean knew he'd missed something. "Did you hear anything I was saying to you?" 

"Not really... sorry, Cas." Dean took Cas' hand. "I'm not very good company right now."  

"It's okay, Dean. You've had a pretty crappy day..." Cas shifted in his seat. "I was telling you that I need to run home for a few things tonight." Dean's heart sank. He wanted Cas to stay, but he didn't know how to ask without sounding needy. Cas must have noticed because he reached out and lifted Dean's chin until he made eye contact. "I'd like to come back and be here when you get home... if that's alright with you."   

Dean smiled and breathed a sigh of relief. He pulled Cas into a hug and rested his head on Cas' strong shoulder. "I'd like that, Cas. Thanks." Dean knew he couldn't have gotten through the past few days without Cas' support. Knowing Cas would be waiting for him when he got home was something to look forward to and right now, Dean needed that.  

They sat like that until Dean's back started to cramp. He nudged Cas to get up and they cleared the table together. Cas started cleaning the kitchen while Dean went to get ready for his shift. He passed through the living room and noticed Millie's letter on the mantel... he'd placed it there when he got back from the nursing home. He wasn't ready to read it then, but he needed her words now. He picked it up, made his way to the bedroom, and sat down on the bed. He stared at the crisp envelope for a long time before sighing and running his finger along the seal. He knew the longer he delayed reading it, the harder it would be. He unfolded the single page of expensive stationery and started reading.   

 _Dear Dean,_  

_I just got home from the hospital where I met your guy, Dr. Novak. Don't even act like he isn't your fella... I saw the way you looked at him. If he isn't yours already, he will be. And I have to say, I wholeheartedly approve. He's not just another pretty face, but I'm sure you know that. He seems like a kind man with a gentle soul and I couldn't think of a better person to take care of you when I'm gone._

_I don't plan on leaving anytime soon, but Dr. Novak just informed me that I have a heart condition. I know it's treatable, but at my age... well, never mind about my age. The important thing is that I want to tell you a few things just in case. You know I don't believe in big speeches and long goodbyes. But sometimes a lady has to speak her mind and a gentleman has to listen. If you were here now, I know you'd make a joke or say something charming to distract me... but since I'll be gone by the time you read this, you'll have to listen out of respect for the dead._

_First... I know it's cliché, but please don't be sad that I'm gone. Be happy we knew each other and got to spend time together. You are a good man, Dean, and a wonderful friend. I never had kids of my own, but you were far better than any dream I ever had. You were unfailingly kind, always treated me with respect, and you never hesitated to go along with my ridiculous schemes. I couldn't have asked for a better son._

_Okay, now that the mushy shit is out of the way... On to my second point. Be good to yourself. You spend so much of your time worrying about your brother, your patients, your friends... you forget to worry about Dean. You can't take care of everyone, Sweetheart... and you're no good to anyone if you can't be good to yourself._

_Third... Be free to love. It's not easy being "different" as you put it. I don't think you're any different from anyone else in this world looking for love. You deserve it just the same, and you should never feel like you have to hide who you are to get it. Love is freedom. Find a way to live your life without judging yourself for it. Life's too short to get all wrapped up about something silly like genitalia._

_Now that I've made you blush, I can move on to my final point. Be forgiving. You have a loving heart, Dean... and it broke mine to hear how sad you got when you talked about your parents. You can't choose your family, and no matter what you do, you're stuck with them. They may never deserve your forgiveness. But we don't forgive others because they deserve it. We forgive them because we deserve to let go and move on. You owe it to yourself to try._

_I know you'll miss me. I'd say I'll miss you too, but I'm fairly certain I'll be three sheets to the wind once I get through the pearly gates. Instead, I will say this... Thank you._

_Your best gal,_

_Millie_

At some point, Cas sat down without Dean noticing. Blinking away his unshed tears, Dean folded the letter and handed it to Cas. When he was done reading it, Cas put his arm around Dean's shoulders and spoke.  

"What a beautiful letter... I wish I could have known her longer."   

"She was an amazing lady," Dean replied. 

"Are you okay?" Cas punctuated his question with a soft kiss on his cheek. 

"Yeah... I think I am." Dean turned into Cas' embrace and wrapped his arms around his boyfriend. With a parting kiss, he stood up and finished getting ready for work.  

Dean's shift passed in a blur and before he knew it, he was home again. Cas was working on his laptop when Dean walked in, but he put it away and came over to greet Dean with a kiss. It was... nice. They exchanged conversation about their day and after a quick shower, Dean joined Cas in bed. He fell asleep seconds after his head hit the pillow.  

The next night, the pair left for work together in Dean's car. It was all very domestic and left Dean feeling peaceful and confident in a way that he never thought would be possible for him. Despite his father's disastrous visit and Millie's death, he was happier than he'd ever been.  

A couple of hours into his shift, Dean was assigned a young patient with a compound fracture of the ulna. Rory Prescott, a sixteen-year-old boy, was injured during a baseball game at the local high school. The kid slid into home and collided with the catcher, which resulted in a badly mangled arm. The father arrived just after the x-rays and Dean introduced himself before stepping away to view the films. He called Cas over for a consult and they both agreed that surgery was the only option. 

The boy's father was distraught and Dean glanced over to size the guy up. Big and burly, cowboy boots, and a trucker hat... typical Texas dad, living out his glory days through his kid. In most cases, this type of parent put sports first and the child's needs second. Dean wasn't sure if Mr. Prescott fit the stereotype or not, but he was prepared to give him the full speech if needed. "Are you in any pain, son? Did you give him something to help ease the..." 

"Relax, Dad. I'm fine. Well... I'm not, but they gave me some kick-ass drugs, so who cares?" Rory's dad gave him a look that was a mixture of pride and disapproval.  

"What's the word, doc? It looked like a bad break... will my boy be able to play again this season?" Dean couldn't believe his ears... how could this guy expect his son to play like this? His experience with his own father made him see red. Cas discreetly laid a hand on his arm and took over.  

"Mr. Prescott, your son will not be able to play any sports for at least six months. With a fracture this severe, he's looking at a long road ahead. Even after the bone heals, he'll need several months of physical therapy... and lots of patience and support from his family." Cas somehow managed to put the man in his place without insulting him even a little. Dean was impressed.  

"Oh, don't you worry none about that. My Rory's a strong boy. He'll be back at it in no time." The man beamed with pride over his son's athletic prowess. It only pissed Dean off more. He had to say something. 

"Look,  _sir_... I don't think you get it. The kid can't play this year. Rory needs to heal properly and get his strength back or he'll never play again. If you push him before he's ready, you'll be setting him up for a lifetime of pain and—"  

"Now, you hold on a second. I'd  _never_ push my boy to do anything he doesn't want to do." Mr. Prescott narrowed his eyes at Dean and looked ready to take him on. Dean's hands curled into fists, but Cas' hand on his back made him dial back his anger. A fist fight with a patient's father wouldn't look good on his record. 

"Actually..." The tension was broken when Rory interrupted. He looked hesitant. "Dad... I gotta tell you something." His words were starting to slur some as the painkillers worked their way through his body. 

The man gave Dean one more surly look before turning to his son. "Okay... you know you can tell me anything, son. What is it?" The three men in the room waited while Rory seemed to gather his courage.  

"I hate baseball." Rory heard his father's gasp of disbelief, but now that he confessed, he kept going. "I've always hated it. I only play because you love it so much. But I don't fit in with those guys... no matter how good I am at the game." 

"Is this because you're gay?" Mr. Prescott asked the question bluntly. Dean gave him a sharp look, fully prepared to defend his patient if necessary. He wasn't about to stand by and let a kid be bullied by his bigoted father. He took a step forward, but stopped when he heard Rory laughing. 

"No, Dad," Rory chuckled. "That's part of it. I mean, dude...  _Texas_. Most of the guys are actually okay with it, even though their idiot parents warn them to stay away from me in the showers. But that's not the only reason. I know you don't care if I'm gay and that you never want me to back down from a fight. This is more about the sport itself. I literally fucking hate it." Dean knew the drugs were making the boy bolder, but he had to hand it to him... the kid had guts. 

"Hey, watch your language, pal," Mr. Prescott scolded. Dean was floored. He expected the dad to go full John Winchester on his kid and instead, the guy only cared about the swearing. He'd never seen anything like it... and it confused him. 

"Sorry..." Rory apologized. After looking sufficiently chastised for his lapse in judgment, he stretched out his good arm and took his father's hand. His dad didn't even flinch or pull away. "Dad... I uh... I want to take drama... I want to be an actor." Rory looked at his father with a hopeful expression. No shame. No fear. Just...  _hope_. 

"That's all? Lord, son, I thought this was something serious." Mr. Prescott adjusted his hat and then took his son's face in his hands. "Listen here, boy... I love you and I'm proud of you no matter what you do. If you want to act, then I'll do whatever it takes to make sure you become the best damn actor the world's ever seen."  

"Okay, okay, Dad... calm down, old man. I love you, too," Rory's grin was lopsided and his eyes closed as the painkillers finally took their toll. His father snickered as he held him, then leaned down and gently kissed his forehead. It was such a touching moment, Dean felt like he couldn't leave the room fast enough. He mumbled an excuse and was out the door in seconds. He heard Cas call after him, but he couldn't respond. 

He walked down the hall until he came to an old supply closet. The nurses and orderlies only used it to store backup equipment, but Dean frequently ducked inside to clear his head or gather himself on bad days. He shut the door behind him and leaned against the it. He didn't know why he was feeling this way... the dad didn't turn out to be an asshole at all. On the contrary... Prescott was one of the best fathers Dean had ever encountered. Why was that such a problem?   

He thought about Rory's face when his father asked him about being gay and how the kid just laughed like it was no big deal. He wasn't afraid of his father's wrath or rejection... then it hit Dean like a punch in the face. He was angry because he wanted a father like that, but knew his own would never measure up. John Winchester was firmly ensconced in his prejudice and hate, and no matter how much it wounded his son, he wouldn't change. Rory and his father had something Dean and John would never have... and it  _hurt_.  

After they got home from putting Millie to rest, Castiel took it upon himself to make dinner. He wasn't nearly the cook Dean was, but he could heat up tomato soup and make grilled cheese sandwiches. Dean barely touched it, even though he told Castiel he appreciated it. Castiel busied himself cleaning the kitchen after Dean went to take a shower. He couldn't do anything about Dean's grief, but he could help with everything else. With a final look to make sure Dean's kitchen was spotless, he headed to the bedroom to see why he hadn't heard the shower start.  

At the doorway, Castiel hesitated. Dean was sitting on the side of the bed holding a folded paper in his hands. He moved forward and sat down next to Dean, but he didn't even look up. Castiel remained silent and waited patiently for Dean to let him know what he needed. Without saying anything, he handed Castiel the letter to read. He had to blink a few times to clear his vision as he read Millie's final words to a man she loved as a son. Her thoughts about Castiel were perceptive and kind, and the wisdom she shared was both comforting and constructive. The letter was, in a word, extraordinary. 

"What a beautiful letter... I wish I could have known her longer," Castiel said softly. 

"She was an amazing lady."  

"Are you okay?" Castiel kissed Dean lightly on the cheek. He wanted nothing more than to take Dean in his arms and take all his pain away. 

"Yeah... I think I am," Dean answered. Castiel knew the grieving wasn't over, but he felt the conviction of Dean's words. 

Castiel went out to the living room while Dean finished getting ready for work. When he came out, he leaned down and gave Castiel a quick kiss. "Bye, Babe. I'll see you in the morning." Dean was halfway to the door when he turned around. "Hey... since you have to run to your place and then come back, I was thinking..." Dean scratched the back of his neck, a gesture Castiel recognized as a nervous one.  

"Spit it out, Dean," Castiel said. 

"It's not a big deal... just... here." He thrust his hand out and Castiel reached out and took... a key. His eyebrows shot up. "Don't get your panties in a twist. It's just a stupid key." Dean tried to stay grumpy, but Castiel could see the humorous twitch in the corner of his mouth.  

"Thank you," Castiel replied with an easy smile. "I'll be sure to only leave it unlocked for the home invaders and the strippers who make house calls." 

"Ha-ha, very funny, asshole. I'm going to work. Have fun burning the place down." With that, Dean gave him a filthy kiss and sauntered out. It made Castiel happy that Dean's spirits were lifted, even if only temporarily.  

A few minutes later, Castiel was making the drive to his apartment to pick up some clean clothes and pick up his mail. He grabbed his hamper on the way out so he could take care of all the laundry while Dean was at work. Back at Dean's house, it didn't take long to sort through both hampers and get the washer started. To keep himself busy between loads, Castiel raided Dean's bookshelf and found a well-loved copy of  _The Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy_. Smiling at the memory of the first time he read the book, he took it and made himself comfortable. Throughout the night, he alternated between reading and folding laundry, then finished the book as the first streaks of dawn trickled through the windows.  

Stretching, he pulled out his laptop and took a few minutes to catch up on emails. He heard the muted roar of Dean's Impala and hurriedly finished typing out a response to Drew's message. He was glad he stayed in touch with both Drew and Rick and hoped to introduce Dean to them one day soon. 

He rose and met Dean, pulling him in for a quick kiss. "Glad you're home," he murmured tiredly. He slid into bed while Dean showered off the smell of the hospital. Dean joined him moments later and they shared a lazy kiss before Dean was out like a light. Castiel took the opportunity to watch his lover as he slept. His dark lashes fanned out in stark contrast to the smattering of freckles on his cheeks and nose. He looked restful and so young... Castiel couldn't imagine his life without Dean in it. 

Castiel woke before Dean, which was unusual... but Castiel knew how drained Dean was given all he'd been through over the past week. After planting a soft kiss to Dean's forehead, Castiel quietly got out of bed, threw on some clothes, and headed to the kitchen. Dean kept insisting Castiel stay at his house, yet Castiel hadn't provided groceries or anything other than a six-pack of Dean's favorite beer.  

He took stock of Dean's refrigerator and pantry and used his shopping list app to keep track of what they needed. Castiel thought it would be nice if he set up the coffeemaker so Dean would only have to turn it on when he woke up. Then he left a note on the counter, grabbed his keys, and made his way to the store. 

He was in the produce section when his phone rang. He smiled at Dean's picture. "Hello, Dean." 

"Hey, Babe. I got your note. You didn't have to do the shopping, man." 

"I know, but I need to contribute..." 

"And stop right there. You don't  _need_  to contribute groceries. That shit's not important. You've been there for me the last few days without asking anything in return.  _That's_  what matters, Cas... not the damn groceries." Castiel opened his mouth to argue, but Dean deflected. "Since you're there, we're out of beer and pie. We  _need_ pie." 

"We  _need_ pie? I didn't realize that was crucial to our survival," Castiel volleyed. He enjoyed it when they bantered like this. 

"Hell, yeah, it's crucial. The survival of  _this_ human depends on it. Get it done, Novak."  

They continued to chat while Castiel went up and down the aisles. Soon, the cart was overflowing and his boyfriend was teasing him with the promise of sexual favors when he got home.  

Once they put away the groceries, Dean crowded Castiel against the counter and leaned close. "I believe I promised a reward for the pie... it's time I paid up," Dean growled into his ear, sending chills down Castiel's spine. He groaned as Dean licked inside, lifted him to the counter with ease, then laid a searing kiss on his mouth. His head was spinning with want and his heart rate spiked when he felt Dean slipping deft fingers into his jeans to unfasten them. With a slight adjustment, his cock was out and in Dean's waiting grasp.  

He looked into his lover's face and saw darkened pupils surrounded by the faintest line of green, skin flushed with arousal, and hair that was a mess from Castiel's wandering hands. Dean leaned in and nipped down his neck, then licked a wet stripe across his collar bone and down his chest. He nibbled a path down to Castiel's dick and without pause, wrapped his mouth around it and slid all the way down to the base. Castiel moaned and bit his lip to keep from crying out. He wasn't going to last like this... Dean was blowing him like his life depended on it, sucking hard as he went up, then flicking his tongue on the way back down. He snaked a finger down to Castiel's hole and pressed just enough to send him tumbling over the edge. His vision blanked as he shot his release down Dean's throat.  

Castiel's breathing calmed and when he realized the entire thing only lasted a few minutes, he huffed a laugh. "God..." 

"Please..." Dean interjected. "Call me Dean." Castiel pinched his side and pulled his boyfriend close to kiss him through their smiling lips.  

"My modest man... I'd tell you how incredible you are, but since you're already so humble..." Castiel smirked. "Shall I return the favor?"  

"Nope," Dean said through a cocky grin. "That's not how rewards work. You just have to accept it and move on."  

"Hmm..." Castiel reached down and cupped Dean's obviously hard erection. "You sure about that?"  

Dean grimaced and adjusted his jeans. "Yep, I'm sure. Besides, we don't have time for anything else. Now go shower. I'm making you dinner tonight." With a wink, Dean went about the task of preparing the evening meal. Castiel showered and got dressed into his scrubs. As he entered the kitchen, he was still tying the drawstring on his pants and Dean let out a wolf-whistle. Castiel rolled his eyes, then watched his boyfriend set everything on the table. Watching Dean move around the kitchen so effortlessly had Castiel considering what life would be like if every day was like this. 

On the ride into the hospital, Castiel glanced over at Dean. There was a sadness in his eyes and Castiel knew it would take time for Dean's grief to subside. Dealing with the death of his grandfather and helping his fellow soldiers through loss had taught him that grief couldn't be overcome with the flip of a switch.  

Castiel followed Dean out of the locker room and all too soon, they were inundated with incoming patients. He was getting ready to hit the breakroom for coffee when Dean called out to him. "Cas, can I get a consult?" 

He walked over to examine the x-ray and stared wide-eyed at the compound fracture of the ulna. "Wow, that is one bad break. Are you thinking surgery?" 

"Yeah. The kid is looking at pins and weeks of PT," Dean said, pointing to the part of the break that would require hardware. Castiel nodded in agreement. "You mind coming with me? You've got more ortho experience than I do. They might have questions I can't answer." 

Dean pushed aside the curtain and Castiel observed the teenager in the bed and a man he assumed was the father standing by him. By the time Dean's tone grew short-clipped, Castiel knew his temper was close to the surface and he placed a steadying hand on his back to calm him. He wasn't sure why Dean was so keyed up, but he thought it best to make sure he didn't overstep any boundaries. When Dean left the room in a rush, Castiel knew this went deeper than simply caring for a patient. 

He didn't turn around when Castiel called to him, so Castiel followed him, jogging to keep up. He saw Dean enter one of the smaller storage closets and Castiel slowed to a stop in the hall. Knowing instinctively that Dean need to be alone for a few minutes, he returned to Rory and his father. He explained the procedure that would put the boy's arm back together and when he was satisfied they understood, he left them in one of the nurse's capable hands. 

A few minutes later, he found himself in front of the closet door. If the situation were less serious, he would have chuckled at the irony of being the one to get Dean out of the closet for a second time. He shook off the errant thought and knocked on the door. "Dean?" 

"I'm okay, Cas. I just need to be alone for a while," came the muffled words... 

Castiel looked around to make sure the hall was empty and leaned his forehead against the wooden surface. "Come on, please open the door..." He needed to be there for Dean and see for himself that the man he loved was okay, but he didn’t know how to convince Dean to relinquish his solitude. The idea came to him so suddenly, he stopped breathing for a few seconds. Castiel knew one thing he could say to get Dean to let him in... and it was something he wanted to say more than anything. "Dean, please... _I love you_." 

The door opened almost immediately. "You..." Dean's mouth moved but no words came out. Giving him a lopsided smile, Castiel nodded. 

"Yes, Dean. I love you. I think I started falling in love with you the first time I saw you." 

Dean grabbed his arm and yanked him into the closet, then closed the door. "You really love me?" 

"More than life itself," he asserted. Dean's responding kiss was searing. His hands gripped the sides of Castiel's head like he was afraid he would disappear. When he finally came up for air, he stared into Castiel's eyes with immeasurable intensity. 

"I love you too, Cas," Dean whispered.  


	12. Chapter 12

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> FROM AMANDA:
> 
> This is it, dear readers... the final chapter for our favorite boys. It’s been an amazing journey and we are both so grateful for each and every one of you. Your comments have been encouraging, thoughtful, and often hilarious. Fran and I write because we love it, but knowing our work is being enjoyed by so many wonderful people makes it even better.
> 
> I also wanted to leave a note here for my other half, Fran.  
> Pally, you will never know how much happiness you have brought to my life. I tell you often, but the words just aren’t enough. Writing with you is more than just turning out a good story... it’s filled with loads of fun, profound bonding, and supportive love. Through our partnership, I have grown from thinking of you as a co-author to considering you the other half of my soul. 
> 
> I know this is probably WAY too sappy for you, especially before lunch. But I said what I said, no backsies! XOXO
> 
> FROM FRAN: Damn, you. You made me cry at work. And you know how much I hate crying...even those pesky man tears. Onward, my friend, we have more stories to tell. XXX

Dean's head fell back against the hard shelf and knocked a stack of suture kits to the floor. He couldn't find it in himself to care because the only thing on his mind was the wet heat of Cas' mouth sliding up and down his cock and the pornographic sucking sounds echoing in the small closet. That, and the fact that Cas loved him...  _really_ loved him. Dean tightened his grip on Cas' hair and slung his other hand out to grip the shelf next to where Cas had dropped to his knees. He felt a finger press to his hole and groaned out loud, every ounce of his self-control trained on not fucking Cas' face.

Dean gazed down to find Cas' gorgeous blue eyes staring up at him as he hollowed his cheeks and sucked harder, then pressed his tongue into the slit and swirled it before dropping back down and repeating the entire process. Not able to thrust his hips, Dean's arm muscles flexed and jerked the entire shelf unit away from the wall, causing medical supplies to rain down around them and fall to the floor. 

"Fuck... Cas... I'm gonna..." Dean's words were choked off as Cas grabbed his hips and yanked them forward, burying Dean's cock deep as he swallowed around it, throat constricting over and over again. It was too much and Dean couldn't stop. He bit his lip to keep from crying out as his orgasm ripped through him. Cas swallowed around him and it sent aftershocks through his body. His legs trembled, but strong arms held him up until Dean regained his stance. Cas stood and Dean pulled him close, kissing him thoroughly. He could taste himself as their tongues swirled together and he let out an appreciative moan at the intimacy of the act. 

Cas leaned into Dean's embrace and sighed into the kiss as Dean became aware of the hardness pressed against his hip. "Is that an otoscope in your pocket, or are you just happy to see me?" Dean wagged his eyebrows and smiled at the epic eyeroll Cas gave in response.  

"Dean... that joke was terrible. And no, it is most definitely  _not_ an otoscope." Cas moaned as Dean palmed his erection, then halted Dean's efforts by grabbing his wrist. "As much as I would love your assistance with my...  _otoscope_ , we really should get back to work." 

Dean took a step back at the reminder and felt his stomach twist when he remembered why he retreated to the seldom-used space to begin with. His eyes darted to the floor and then back up to Cas' face when he felt tender fingers lift his chin. 

"Don't," Cas said simply. "We can talk about all of that later... when we get home." 

 _When we get home_. Dean's eyes widened slightly in surprise, then he felt a broad grin spread across his face. He leaned his forehead against Cas' and whispered, "Home?"

Cas tensed briefly, then let out a breath against Dean's lips. "Yes.  _Home_ _,_ " he answered with confidence, but there was a small hint of uncertainty in his eyes. "I know we haven't talked about that, but—"

"Are you kidding me with this right now?" Dean felt Cas try to pull away, but he tightened his hold and refused to let him. "Cas... I wouldn't have given you a key if I didn't want you there." He almost laughed when he saw Cas' reaction.

"What are you saying?" Cas was scanning Dean's face... maybe he didn't believe what he'd heard. Dean didn't want Cas to have any doubts about where he stood on the matter. He decided to just lay it all on the line and tell Cas the truth. He loved having Cas at his house and had come to learn that being there without him just didn't feel like home anymore. 

"I don't like being there without you. The house feels...  _empty_ when you're gone. I just..." He paused, his hold on Cas tightening. "I want us to live together." There. He said it. Now that it was out in the open, Dean felt his heart lurch as he waited for Cas to respond. Warm lips pressed against his cheek, then a shiver ran down his spine when he felt Cas' low voice in his ear.

" _Dean_... I would love to live with you." Cas nipped his ear lobe and a needy sound escaped Dean's throat. 

"Shit... Cas, you know you can't use the voice on me at work," Dean groaned as Cas licked just behind his ear.

"When did we establish that? I don't think that's a real rule." The cheeky bastard was growling out his words on purpose.

"Fine, I'm making it a rule now. No using the  _sex voice_  when we're working." Dean felt the cold air hit him as Cas leaned back with a smirk. "Don't look at me like that. You're the one who said we needed to get back to work." Dean wanted to flip the script on his boyfriend and adopted a nonchalant tone. "If I had it my way, I'd be bent over with your cock in my ass right now." 

Cas actually  _whimpered_ as he closed his eyes and clenched his fists in Dean's scrubs. He opened his eyes just long enough to see the victorious look on Dean's face. In a flash, Cas had him pinned to the door, his body pressed against him, hands holding Dean's wrists to the wall in a fierce grip. Dean let out a filthy sound when he felt Cas thrust his hips forward and teeth clamping on the back of his neck. Cas licked and sucked a mark Dean knew he would have for days. He released one of Dean's hands, then gripped the back of Dean's hair and pulled his head back. 

"Careful what you wish for, love," Cas growled with a wet lick into his ear. Dean grunted and felt his dick twitch in response to the unexpected display of dominance from his normally docile boyfriend. He didn't know where this new behavior was coming from, but he definitely liked it. Just when he was about to melt into Cas' touch, he let go and Dean realized what the fucker had just done. 

"You... you can't just..." Dean stammered. He wiped a hand down his face and huffed a laugh. "Okay, asshat, you win. You're the sexiest boyfriend ever. Happy?" 

"Very," Cas replied with a smug grin. He reached out and rearranged Dean's scrubs and hair so he looked a little less debauched. With a final peck on the lips, he grabbed the doorknob. "Ready?" 

"Yeah, I'm good," Dean replied as he readjusted his pants. The door swung open to reveal Benny standing outside with his arms crossed over his chest. Dean and Cas froze like they'd been caught with their pants down. "Uh..."

Benny snorted. "Really, the joke writes itself." Dean frowned in confusion, then he got it... two men coming out of the closet after fucking around. He glanced behind them to see what a complete mess they'd made of the small room. As he turned back toward Benny, he took note of the cocky look on Cas' face and thought it was incredibly sexy. 

"What can I say," Dean shrugged. "My man is hot as fuck." He heard Cas snicker beside him. Benny uncrossed his arms and pointed at the mess.

"You assholes are cleaning that up. Then you can meet me back at the desk so you can earn your goddamn paychecks." With that, the annoyed Cajun strode away from them shaking his head.

Dean and Cas exchanged matching smirks as they bent to the task of putting the closet back in order. Soon, they were back to seeing patients and before they knew it, their shift was over and they were heading back to Dean's house. 

Dean had to give Cas credit. He may have been curious about Dean's sudden escape to the storage closet, but he didn't bring it up and Dean was relieved. They showered together and he held Cas close and stroked him from behind until he came with a sigh and a soft smile. Even in the aftermath, Cas didn't mention it. Dean knew from past experience that keeping things from your partner wasn't the way to maintain a healthy relationship. Dean saw that Cas was already in bed and moved to sit down on the edge, not making eye contact. 

"Guess we should probably talk about what happened earlier..." He trailed off and noticed Cas tensing up next to him. He probably thought Dean regretted asking him to move in, so he rushed to clarify. "I mean with the kid... and his dad."

"We don't have to talk about that... not if you don't want to," Cas said quietly, taking Dean's hand in his. He brushed his lips along Dean's knuckles and that sweet gesture was enough to give Dean the courage he needed. It wasn't that he didn't  _want_ to talk about it... he just didn't know how. Growing up, he'd never really had anyone ask or care about his thoughts or feelings. Sam came the closest, but only if Dean was too far gone to keep his little brother sheltered from the truth of things. The fact that Cas cared and was completely fine with letting Dean decide... it was like drawing breath for the first time after a lifetime of drowning. Suddenly, Dean felt like he wanted to tell Cas everything, always and without fear. 

"I do, Cas. I want to share everything with you, good and bad." He turned to face his boyfriend and met his eyes. They were full of love and compassion... not an ounce of pity. Dean squeezed Cas' hand and started to open up. "Seeing the way Rory's father just accepted that he was...  _different_... it just made me realize that this is how good parents treat their kids. That's what it looks like when a father loves his son more than anything." He took a deep breath. "It made me wish for something I'll never have."

When he didn't say anything else, Cas sat up straighter and leaned back against the headboard. "Dean, parents are human and have flaws... some more than others. We both have the emotional scars to prove it. All we can do is move forward. It took some time, but I've forgiven my father..." 

Dean's bark of bitter laughter stopped Cas' words.  _Forgive John Winchester_...

"I forgave my father for me, Dean... not for him. I never said a word to him about it. I forgave him in here." He brought their clasped hands to his heart and held them there. "You can let it eat away at you or you can forgive and move on to be a better person. Take your father's lack of parenting skills and learn from his mistakes. You have free will to choose to be the type of father you'll become one day. A good father. A loving father. The kind of father your child would be proud of."

Dean couldn't look away from Cas' intense gaze. He'd never thought about having kids... well, that wasn't entirely true. He tossed around the idea a few years back and had always dreamed of having kids someday... but he never had anyone to share those dreams.  _U_ _ntil now_. "Yeah... so kids, huh? You ever think about it?" Dean knew he was deflecting from the conversation about forgiveness, but that was a something he needed to process on his own, preferably when he wasn't distracted by such captivating blue eyes.

Cas broke their eye contact. He breathed in and then blew it out through his mouth before dragging his teeth over his lower lip. Dean recognized the signs. Cas was nervous. "Hey, don't sweat it, man. It was a lame question." Dean tried to stand because lame or not, the idea was rattling around in his head now. He  _could_ see kids in his future... dark-haired, blue-eyed, miniature versions of Cas. _Fuck_. He felt a rush of anxiety over his traitorous thoughts. They just revealed their feelings a few hours ago and already Dean was thinking about having children with the man.

Cas' grip on his hand held him in place and those peerless eyes were back on his, pinning him with their sincerity. "I never considered having children of my own until... until I met you." Dean's heart started beating faster.  _Holy shit,_ _t_ _hey were really doing this_. 

"Ditto," he responded with an easy smile. The two men seemed to breathe a collective sigh of relief. They had overcome so many emotional barriers in such a short time and it had only brought them closer together. Dean was starting to think that there might be something to this whole  _sharing feelings_  thing.

By the end of the following week, Cas had moved in. The bookcases in the den were devoid of Dean's sparse selection of old medical books. Now, they were filled with Cas' eclectic library of novels, textbooks, and military manuals. Plants filled any available floorspace around the windows and spilled out onto the back deck. It had been so seamless that Dean never felt like his space had been invaded. On the contrary... his house had never felt more like a home than it did once Cas' belongings became part of it.

With Sam's wedding looming in a couple of weeks, his best man duties kept him too busy to dissect his lack of panic at having someone living with him. He informed his future sister-in-law that Cas would definitely be his plus-one. While Dean was being fitted for a tux and holding Sam's hand through last-minute wedding preparations and planning the honeymoon, Cas was content to offer whatever support he could, whether it was running errands or... stress relief. Through it all, Cas seemed to instinctively know when Dean was getting too close to the point of being overwhelmed. Before he cracked, Cas was there offering a reassuring embrace, bringing home dinner when Dean forgot, or he would take Dean to bed and never stop until Dean was completely brainless and boneless. It was everything Dean needed. 

There had only been one hiccup. They got into an awful fight when Dean spent an entire afternoon and evening taking his problems out on Cas. Seeing Cas walk out the door after Dean told him to fuck off was enough to make him snap out of it. Dean ran after him and apologized, then they talked about what was really going on. Luckily, Cas was good enough to forgive Dean even though he didn't deserve it. When all was said and done, Dean was glad they had fought because it led to the realization that it was okay for him to rely on someone else for a change. No matter what happened between them, Dean was finally convinced that he would never regret one single minute of the time he got to spend with Cas.

The wedding was perfect and so moving, it brought nearly everyone to tears. The entire room was silent as Sam and Eileen made their vows to each other in sign language, the words displayed on the wall behind them. It was easily one of the most beautiful things Dean had ever seen and even he found himself wiping away tears. 

The only problem was that John and Mary didn't arrive until the last minute and barely made it to their seats before the ceremony began. Dean delegated the task of getting them settled to another groomsman. He didn't want anything taking his focus away from being there for Sammy, especially their self-involved parents. Dean had learned from an early age to count their parents out when it came to important milestones... it was after the wedding that worried him. Mary already said they wouldn't be sticking around for the reception, but he was sure they would want a moment with the newlyweds.

He wasn't wrong. John and Mary were waiting for the happy couple as soon as they exited the church after the photos were done. Dean caught Sam's eye long enough to know he didn't want to deal with them on his own and made his way to his brother's side, despite his instinct to stay as far away from John as possible. He arrived in time to see Mary struggling to understand what Eileen was saying while Sam was occupied with John. Dean bristled with aggravation... if his mother had bothered to even try to get to know Eileen, she would have no trouble understanding her. He strode to Eileen's side and took over as interpreter, signing Mary's responses to Eileen and translating Eileen's replies. After a few minutes and some secret jokes exchanged between Dean and Eileen, Sam came over to stand at his wife's side. John didn't follow. The whole space was filled with tension and set Dean's teeth on edge. He decided to step in and assert his authority as best man to rescue his brother and new sister-in-law. 

"Okay, time for the newlyweds to get moving. We've got a party to get to. Mom, Dad, thanks for coming." Dean reverted to the polite tone he used at social functions during childhood and was relieved that he sounded successful in masking the anger creeping through his chest. John and Mary seemed to catch on and made their farewells to Sam and Eileen, though John maintained his distance from Dean. 

As soon as Sam and Eileen walked away, Cas came over and read Dean's face like a map. He took Dean's hand and gave it a squeeze, then leaned over and pecked him on the cheek. Mary's eyebrows shot up and her mouth dropped open in shock. Dean set his jaw and refused to acknowledge John's reaction, though he could feel the rage radiating from the man. Mary finally recovered and found her voice, looking at Dean expectantly. "Dean?"

"Mom, this is Cas... my boyfriend." Dean felt a rush of pride when his words echoed back. "We live together. And he's awesome." Ever the proper matriarch, Mary turned to Cas with a smile that didn't reach her eyes and extended her hand.

"It's nice to meet you, Cas," she said as she shook his hand the appropriate number of times, then released him and turned back to Dean. "I'm relieved that you've finally settled down with someone, Dean. The companionship will be beneficial, I'm sure." 

Is that all she had to say? He shouldn't be surprised. After all, the woman never even made it to Dean's graduation from high school. Still... this could have gone much worse, considering how badly John behaved when he found out. He felt Cas' grip tighten on his hand and gathered what remained of his patience.

"Yes, mom, I've gotten a lot of  _benefit_ _s_ from having Cas around." He didn't even try to keep the sarcasm out of his voice. He was civil as he said his goodbyes, effectively dismissing his parents so he could return to more pleasant matters. When they were gone, he turned to face Cas. "Thanks for... you know. I'm gonna hit the head before we go. I'll be right back." 

Dean ducked into the bathroom and splashed some cold water on his face, careful not to ruin his tux. He patted his face dry with a paper towel and took a moment to look in the mirror. As he looked himself in the eye, he thought back to the conversation he had with Cas about forgiveness. The words from Millie's letter popped into his head and he closed his eyes and bowed his head. When he looked back up, his heart was lighter and he no longer carried the weight of everything his father had done to him.  

In the weeks following his declaration of love, Castiel couldn't remember ever being happier... or more stressed. Dean was helping his brother prepare for his wedding, and it gave Castiel new insight into Dean's inherent  _need_ to take care of everything and everyone. In his quest to help Sam find the perfect hotel for their honeymoon in Ireland, Dean kept forgetting to eat. He spent so much time finding the perfect wedding gift that he lost sleep. Castiel was worried, but he willingly took on the task of taking care of Dean when he was too preoccupied to take care of himself. When Dean became overwhelmed, Castiel was there to reel him in, force him to stop and eat something, or initiate sex to get him relaxed enough to close his eyes and rest.

It was during their one night off together when they had their first fight since moving in together. Dean had been tense since he got home from teaching his self-defense class. He snapped at Castiel a few times over the course of the afternoon and was now holed up in the spare room with his laptop planning Sam's bachelor party. Castiel knocked on the partially closed door and Dean fired out, "What?" His tone set Castiel off and within seconds, they were nose-to-nose, shouting over each other. He couldn't even remember all they said, but Dean's spiteful "Fuck off, Cas" was the last straw. Silent and stone-faced, Castiel turned and left the room. The absence of sound in the wake of their shouting made the place feel more like a graveyard than a home. He grabbed his wallet and keys and was halfway down the steps of the porch when Dean ran out after him.

"Cas... stop." Castiel kept walking. If he stopped, they'd both wind up saying things they would regret. He needed some space to cool down. He got to the 'Vette and was reaching with the key extended when Dean's hand wrapped around his wrist. "I'm sorry." 

Castiel was like a statue carved in marble... immobilized by the tenuous grip he had on his anger warring with his heart. His eyes stayed on the place where Dean's touch seemed to burn into his skin. "I'm sorry," Dean repeated. In hindsight, Castiel should have seen the signs. When cornered, Dean lashed out. But who or what had made him feel that way? He didn't have to wait long for the answer. Dean dropped his hand and leaned against the car, forcing Castiel to look at him. "My parents will be at the wedding, Cas. I don't want to see him again." Castiel knew exactly who the  _hi_ _m_ was. He knew Dean was trying to come to terms with forgiving his parents, especially his father... but it was still too soon.

"Dean, I just won't go. It will be better for everyone if—"

"No, Cas. My parents... my father will not dictate my life anymore. I love you and want you by my side at my brother's wedding." He huffed out a breath and shrugged. "I knew they'd come, but I put it out of my head and stayed focused on Sammy... ya know? Then today, Sam sent me a text telling me they weren't flying in until the day of the wedding. Sam was disappointed because... well... the groom's parents are supposed to host the rehearsal dinner. At first, I thought he shouldn't have been surprised that they weren't coming, but then I remembered all the times I made excuses for them. Whenever they weren't there for Sam's school events or soccer games... even graduation... I never wanted him to get hurt, so I would tell him lies to cover for them."

"Dean..." Castiel's heart ached for all the pain and anguish Dean had endured on his own, even as a child. Although, it sounded like Dean was never a child... not really. He reached out for Dean's hand, but he stepped away.

"Don't you get it? It's my fault. This is one of the most important days in my brother's life and because of my lies, he truly expected his parents to show up for him. If I had told him the truth when he was younger, he would've learned not to count on them... like I did. And now..." Dean trailed off, looking miserable and dejected. Castiel made another grab for his hand, but this time, he held firm so Dean couldn’t shake him off. He waited until Dean was facing him, then stared pointedly into his eyes.

"It's not your fault." He paused to let his words sink in. "You are not responsible for everything and everyone. You can't always be there to shield your brother from getting hurt. Sometimes life is painful and we of all people know there's not a cure for everything. You're a good man and an amazing brother. You sacrificed your own life to make Sam's better. That makes you a hero. And I bet Sam would say the same."

Dean squeezed his hand then leaned slightly forward like he wanted to hug Castiel, but wasn't sure if he was allowed. Castiel pulled him in and laid a kiss on his temple, soothing him with warm hands on his back. After a minute, Dean pulled away and cleared his throat. 

"I want to be with you, Cas... always. And I never want to see you hurt. If I could keep you away from John forever, I would." Dean looked worried. 

"Surely your father will be on his best behavior at Sam's wedding?" 

"Maybe... who knows? He could go either way, but I don't think the great John Winchester would want anyone to see him when he's not in control. He'll be the perfect father in front of everyone," Dean said ruefully, then looked around as if realizing they were in the driveway for the first time. His skin flushed and he bent his head. "I'm so sorry, Cas. I shouldn't have taken all that crap out on you."

Castiel cupped his hand behind Dean's neck to bring him in for another hug. "Don't treat me like the enemy, Dean. I'm your partner... and I am  _always_ on your side." He felt Dean's arms tighten around him and the tension seemed to fall away from his body.

"I must have been a good person in another life to deserve someone like you," Dean mumbled softly.

Shaking his head, Castiel said, "You're a good person in  _t_ _his_ life, Dean... and I love you so much."

The day of the wedding dawned clear. By the time Castiel arrived at the church, the Texas sun was beating down. Thankfully, Eileen had chosen to have the ceremony indoors with air conditioning. With Dean already inside, Castiel made his way down the aisle. He took his seat next to Charlie and was happy to note Benny and Jo were sitting together holding hands. Soft piano music drifted from hidden speakers and the scent of fresh flowers filled the air. 

Charlie was whispering to him about Dean's inability to tie his own bowtie when a late-arriving couple caught his attention. John, and a woman Castiel assumed was Mary Winchester, strode down the center aisle of the church. They were being led by one of Sam's groomsmen and took their place in the first row. He expected them to at least make a pretense of polite conversation with other guests, but they just sat there looking straight ahead... like they were waiting to check the wedding off a to-do list so they could move on to more important matters. Castiel was, quite frankly, stunned by the coldness. His own father was by no means a warm person, but his mother was... despite her unwavering focus on her career.  

As was typically the case with weddings, the ceremony itself was short and sweet. Seeing Dean standing next to his brother in his tux sent a thrill up Castiel's spine. God, he was beautiful. After the service, the newly married couple remained with their attendants and immediate family members to pose for the photographer. Castiel could only imagine John Winchester standing stiffly next to Sam and pretending to be happy. Had the man  _ever_ been happy?  

"Dude?" He shook himself out of his thoughts and looked down at Charlie. It was obvious she'd been trying to get his attention.

"I'm sorry... my mind was elsewhere."

"Yeah, well keep your dirty thoughts about Dean and his bowtie at bay, big boy. We have a reception to get to." Castiel didn't bother to correct her, though she did put an image in his head that would make it hard to concentrate on anything else.

"Hold on, I'll let Dean know we'll meet them there." Eileen and Sam had chosen the Hacienda Santa Maria, a well-known venue for wedding parties. Charlie took his keys and said she'd meet him at the car. She rode in with Benny and Jo, but decided during the ceremony that she couldn't stand to be around the two 'drooling love birds' any longer. Castiel suspected it had more to do with her desire to ride in the 'Vette, but he accepted her reason without further comment. Still, he wouldn't put it past her to try to convince him to let her drive.

Castiel stepped outside and spotted Dean with his mother. He hated to interrupt and honestly had no desire to meet the woman, but he needed to tell Dean his plans. He strode up to them casually while the soldier in him scanned the area for John. The older doctor was engaged in a conversation with a man Castiel recognized as one of S.A.M.'s cardiac surgeons.  _Guess_ _the man found someone worth talking to after all_ , Castiel thought bitterly. When he got to Dean, he saw his boyfriend's strained expression and took a chance. He reached out for Dean's hand and squeezed it to let him know Castiel had his back. The kiss on Dean's cheek was affectionate and clearly one of lovers, not friends. He didn't even look at Dean's mother to see her reaction. His focus was on Dean.

"Dean?"

"Mom, this is Cas... my boyfriend. We live together. And he's awesome." Castiel didn't think he could love Dean any more than he did at that exact moment. He'd finally become his own man, and Castiel was so proud. Mary put out a hand and Castiel shook it politely.

"It's nice to meet you, Cas." He noticed she didn't ask for any further information... like his last name or what he did for a living. It was apparent that she was responding with the bare minimum the rules of society demanded... a method with which Castiel was intimately familiar. After dropping his hand, she turned to her son, pointedly ignoring Castiel. "I'm relieved that you've finally settled down with someone, Dean. The companionship will be beneficial, I'm sure." 

Still holding Dean's hand, Castiel rubbed his knuckles with his thumb in a soothing manner, praying that it would keep Dean from saying something he couldn't take back. He was floored and more than a little amused by Dean's response.

"Yes, mom, I've gotten a lot of  _benefit_ _s_ from having Cas around." Dean's smile was fake and Castiel knew Mary picked up on it. She'd have to be blind not to. John was heading their way and Dean said a cool goodbye to both of them. He led Castiel toward the church. At the steps, he paused. "Thanks for... you know. I'm gonna hit the head before we go. I'll be right back." 

"No rush. You take some time with Sam. I'm driving Charlie to the reception. I'll see you there." He kissed Dean on the lips and backed away with a smile. He waited until Dean disappeared inside before heading to the parking lot.

As he approached his car, he stiffened. John was closing the passenger door of a sedan parked right next to the 'Vette. Castiel could see Mary already inside. As John straightened to go around to the driver's side, he spotted Castiel. His expression was dark, but before he could turn his back and ignore him completely, Castiel quickened his pace.

"Dr. Winchester," Castiel said sharply. John froze and glanced into the car at his wife. She was talking on her phone and wasn't paying attention. "I know where you stand regarding our relationship, but I want to assure you that I love your son and I am honored to have his love in return. And you should know... I'm not going anywhere."

John's eyes narrowed, but he didn't speak. He gave Castiel a long look before spinning on his heel and rounding the car. With a slam of the door, he was out of Castiel's sight. He gave Mary a tight smile when she looked out the window. 

He went to slide into the driver's seat and noticed for the first time that a certain redhead was occupying it. He raised an eyebrow in question and she gazed back at him, eyes wide and innocent. "You seem stressed. I should drive. You know... for safety and stuff." 

At her impish grin, Castiel sighed in resignation and moved around to the passenger seat, buckling his seatbelt tightly. Charlie fired up the engine and Castiel opened his mouth to warn her to be careful, but the words were choked off when the roadster lurched forward and sped out of the parking lot in a cloud of dust. The only sound was Charlie's excited whoops as the wind whipped through her hair. The car came to a sudden stop when they arrived at the venue. Castiel turned to lay into Charlie for her reckless driving, but she was radiating sheer joy and he felt his anger melt away. He merely gave her a reproachful glare and held his hand out for the keys, which she returned without a fuss.  

Dean found him a short time later. He and Charlie were scoping out the buffet when arms snagged him around his waist. "Hey, handsome. Come here often?"

Dean's mood had lightened considerably and Castiel had to wonder what happened in the fifteen or twenty minutes they'd been separated. Not wanting to look a gift horse in the mouth, Castiel enjoyed the party. They ate and made use of the open bar. When it was time for the best man's speech, Dean outdid himself with a mixture of funny anecdotes of a young Sam Winchester and heartfelt wishes for the happy couple. Castiel was stuck in a conversation with Crowley and the head of the pediatric wing when the music started. Everyone turned as Sam and Eileen took the floor for their first dance as a married couple. Castiel allowed himself a brief fantasy of Dean, dressed like he was now, but for their own special day. "Dance with me, Cas." The soft whisper against his skin sent a shiver down his spine. He turned to meet Dean's expectant eyes.

Others had joined Sam and Eileen and he took the outstretched hand. "I'd love to, Dean." He let Dean lead him onto the floor as the opening strands of ' _At Las_ _t_ ' by Etta James came from the bandstand. The words were perfect.  _At last,_ _m_ _y_ _l_ _ov_ _e ha_ _s_ _c_ _o_ _m_ _e_ _a_ _long_ _... my lonely days are over_... He felt so proud of Dean for how far he'd come and felt peace for the first time in his life. No inner turmoil over his solitude... no fear that Dean wouldn't want him. Just...  _certainty_. They moved together, close enough that their foreheads touched. "I love you, Captain Winchester."

"And I love you, Captain Novak," Dean murmured against his lips. "Can't wait to get you home... your ass in those pants...  _Damn_."

"Hmm," Castiel hummed appreciatively. "Can you leave the bowtie on?"

Dean leaned his head back to look at him, amusement pooling in his eyes. "You kinky bastard."

"So, that's a yes?"

"Well, bollocks. I'm losing both of you?" Crowley was frowning over his hand-carved mahogany desk. It always struck Dean as a little too pricey for the hospital's budget, but he wouldn't put it past Crowley to extort the extra funds from a board member or two. Cas' deep voice caught his attention.

"I realize this isn't an ideal situation, but you understood when you hired me that—"

"Oh, don't get your knickers in a twist. I know what to expect when I hire military doctors. I will accommodate your choice to serve your country... but I don't have to like it." Crowley was justifiably frustrated with the situation. The orders had only been issued the previous day, but they were supposed to report on Friday, which was tomorrow. They were part of a massive training op for medical personnel from all branches of the military that would be held at Joint Base San Antonio. Captains Winchester and Novak were part of a team of doctors that would be training medics to perform life-saving procedures in battlefield conditions as well as certifying troops in basic combat readiness. Dean had been part of it for years, but this was Cas' first time participating in such large-scale maneuvers. 

Crowley typed a few lines on his computer, then looked at them like he was surprised they were still there. "Is there something else you need? Tea? A warm blanket? Perhaps a hug?" 

Dean didn't stop the snort of laughter that escaped. He couldn't help it... Crowley was a dick sometimes, but the guy was pretty damn funny when he was in bitch mode. Cas didn't seem to appreciate it as much and glared at Dean in disapproval. It was kind of adorable. 

"Thanks, Crowley. We'll be taking our fine asses back to work now. See you around." Dean ushered Cas out of the office and down the hall. Cas' silence had gone on too long and Dean had the sneaking suspicion he was in trouble. "What is it, Cas?"

"I just don't think you were being professional. We're doctors and we shouldn't be talking about our asses in front of our boss," he huffed. 

"Well you didn't mind taking advantage my fine ass in the storage closet a couple of weeks ago. I don't think that was very professional of you." Dean smirked in satisfaction when he saw the blush creep up Cas' neck.

"That... that was different. We were alone..."

"Uh-huh... until Benny busted us." Dean threw his arm around Cas' shoulders as they made their way back to the ER. "Come on... you know you like it when I'm naughty. Speaking of which..." Dean slid his hand down and grabbed a handful of Cas' ass, causing him to let out a most undignified squeak. By the time they got back to the main desk, they were both laughing. 

The next day was a blur as they prepared for their mission. They would only be staying at the base for four days, but since they were required to bring every single item they'd been issued, packing was a monumental effort. Friday morning, they were up before dawn. Breakfast eaten, they took turns in the bathroom to shave and get dressed in their ACUs. With Cas not being much of a morning person, Dean was ready first. He was lacing his boots up when Cas emerged carrying his own. Dean looked up and his mouth went dry. He'd only ever seen Cas wearing his uniform in pictures, but they didn't come close to capturing how ridiculously  _sexy_ he looked. Dean reluctantly pulled his gaze away, then tucked in his boot laces, snapped his blousers in place, and stood up to start carrying their gear to the car. He had only taken one step before he felt an iron grip on his wrist and was yanked into a savage kiss. It seemed that Cas was just as affected as he was. Dean felt himself getting hard when suddenly, Cas broke away.

"Dean... you look..." Cas was breathless. "When we get home, I swear..."

"Trust me, Cas... the feeling's mutual." Dean dug his fingertips into Cas' hips before releasing him. As he loaded himself up with their rucks and duffle bags, he grumbled over the Army preventing him from getting into his boyfriend's pants. He heard Cas laughing behind him. The low rumble of that boner-inducing voice did nothing to prevent Dean from fantasizing about getting Cas alone in some dark corner of the base and... He stopped before his ACU pants got uncomfortable.

Overall, the mission was a success. There were a few safety issues on the firing range, but they always had at least one soldier who forgot which way to point their weapon. Luckily, Dean had fast reflexes and was able to push the barrel into the proper firing position before the trigger was pulled. He took particular joy in doling out pushups that day. 

Two days in, they met up with another platoon for the combat movements training module. For medics, they were not only required to move with their rifles at the ready, they also had to ensure their medical bags were within reach at all times. It was complicated but once mastered, the skill became second nature. 

The trainees were lined up in one large formation as the captains and their lieutenants gathered up front for a quick check-in. Dean was chatting with Cas while they waited for the last captain to arrive. He was startled by Cas' reaction to the dude... he was beaming and threw his arms around him enthusiastically.  _Who the fuck was this guy?_ Dean felt a surge of jealousy and flexed his fists. He waited for Cas to explain, but he was too caught up with the conversation he was having with Captain...  _Alister_ , according to his nametape. Dean was the op leader, so he stepped forward and called the troops to attention, his expression as hard as stone and showing his ingrained military bearing. After a quick briefing, he dismissed them to their respective areas, then walked off without looking in Cas' direction once. 

During their chow break, a few soldiers challenged Dean to a race to see who could disassemble and reassemble an M-16 the fastest. Some of the guys were fresh out of basic training, so their skills were still pretty fresh. Dean wasn't worried in the slightest. He further demonstrated his confidence when he pulled out a rolled bandage, doubled it up, and tied it around his head, blindfolding him completely. There was a ripple of trash talk and cheers through the crowd. Dean held his hands above his weapon and waited for the word. The soldier holding the stopwatch yelled "Go!" and he dove in with the precision of a surgeon. 

Twenty-seven seconds later, he slapped the side of the weapon, laid it back down on the table and stood at parade rest. The crowd went wild. Dean removed his blindfold and saw that the other soldier was still in the process of breaking his weapon down when Dean finished. He grinned and slapped the kid on the back. "Don't sweat it, dude." He waited for the private to relax, then said, "Just train harder." He walked away, the sound of laughter ringing across the field. At the edge of the group, Dean caught Cas eyeing him with a look that could only be described as  _hungry_. Dean kept walking. 

Cas joined him by the water buffalo looking uneasy. "Dean... is something wrong?" 

"Nope." He popped the ending of the word and tried to look humorous. He failed.

"What is it, Dean? You were fine this morning... what changed?" Cas sounded devastated and Dean couldn't keep up his façade. 

"Who was that guy, Cas?" At the confused look on Cas' face, Dean elaborated. "You were hugging him and then you didn't even bother to introduce me." He busied himself with the task of filling his canteens. He didn't want to make eye contact.

"He's my friend. His name is Drew. I told you about him, remember?" Cas was wearing a guarded expression.

"Drew? As in, fucked-you-over-laundry, battle-buddy-in-Syria Drew?" Dean was trying to hold his temper. He knew he was being irrational... but he felt a primal urge to defend what was his. Cas heaved a sigh of... frustration?

"Yes, Dean.  _That_ Drew. Like I said, he is my  _friend_. And he is married to my other friend, Rick. He is not interested in me, nor am I interested in him. As I'm sure you're aware, I am incredibly, irrevocably, undeniably in love with  _you_." Cas glanced around to make sure they wouldn't be noticed and slid his arms around Dean's waist. "You're the only one for me. I love you, you big dummy."

Dean felt the tightness in his chest relax at Cas' words. He leaned into Cas' embrace and stayed there for a few minutes, just breathing in his scent. The sound of a throat clearing made them jump apart. He looked up to find Drew standing there with an open canteen.

"Don't stop on my account. I just need to get to the um... the thing." He was giving them a friendly smile and Dean found himself returning it. Cas had stepped away, but he laid a hand on Dean's shoulder as he turned toward his friend. 

"Drew, this is my boyfriend, Dean." Cas looked like he was bursting with pride. 

"I figured. I'd hope you wouldn’t be the type of guy to cuddle with random officers around Ye Olde Water Buffalo." Dean laughed. The guy was pretty funny. "It's great to finally meet you, Dean. Rick and I have been trying to find a weekend free so we can come visit you guys. He's been training the SWAT Team back home... between his schedule and mine..." 

"I get it, dude. Being a doctor isn't all glamour and sports cars. Well, except for Cas... his ride is pretty flashy." He felt an elbow jab in his ribs and snorted. They exchanged a few jokes at each other's expense, and Dean, unfounded jealousy gone now, decided that he could definitely come to consider Drew a friend.

After a successful training mission, they dragged their bags back into the house and left them by the door to deal with later. Dean had one thing and one thing only on his mind. He saw Cas start to bend down to unlace his boots, but stopped him by grabbing his hips and thrusting at him from behind, making his intent clear. With a sinuous motion that made the blood rush to Dean's cock, Cas rose to lean back into his touch. Dean flexed his hands and spun him around in a rapid motion, then grabbed the front of Cas' uniform top and yanked him into a vicious kiss that was all teeth and tongues. Cas responded by grinding against him with slow but firm movements. 

Dean felt a hand in his hair and gave a sharp cry when it tightened to a fist and pulled his head back. Cas had him right where he wanted him and held Dean in place so long, he was about to break Cas' hold. Then he felt a wide, wet tongue at the base of his throat as Cas licked him slowly... so slowly... until he reached Dean's ear and his tongue darted inside. Teeth closed down on his ear lobe and Cas' hand slid down his body to cup his erection. Dean groaned and bit his lip, unable to move his head without losing some hair. Cas' display of dominance had him so turned on, he felt like coming in his pants like a goddamn teenager. Cas released his hold and the hand in his hair became nothing but a single fingertip grazing the back of his neck. The contrast between the aggressive hold on his cock and the barely-there touch on his skin was making him dizzy with desire. Cas buried his face in Dean's neck and inhaled deeply.  _W_ _as he smelling_ _him?_  

"Mmm," Cas growled. "I love your smell, Dean..." Holy fucking hell, why was that so hot? Dean couldn't wait anymore and dove in for a wet, filthy kiss. Cas let him. Then a sharp nip to his lower lip made Dean back off slightly. Cas just looked at him and quirked an eyebrow... _that fucking eyebrow_. "I'm going to our room and when I come back, I want you facing that wall with your hands on either side of your head."

Dean moved to unfasten his belt, but halted when he caught Cas' forbidding expression. "Did I say anything about getting undressed?" Dean swallowed the whimper that tried to escape. He had no fucking clue why this was making him so hard, but he decided not to question it. He moved to obey Cas' orders and placed his palms on either side of his head, the cool surface of the wall grounding him. "Good boy," Cas uttered as he strode to the bedroom. He was back in less than thirty seconds, but Dean felt Cas' eyes on him for what felt like an eternity. It was building anticipation in the most delicious way and Dean felt his insides quiver.

A hand came into his field of vision and leaned on the wall next to Dean's. Then he felt the brush of lips on his ear as Cas whispered, "Close your eyes, love." Dean did and was instantly relieved. It narrowed his swirling, overstimulated mind to a single focus. When Cas removed his hand from the wall, Dean was only aware of the touch sliding from his hand to his forearm, then to his bicep and shoulder. Cas remained there and squeezed slightly to get Dean's attention. "We haven't talked about this yet... but I would like very much to fuck you with nothing between us. I've been tested within the last month and I'm clean. Are you?" 

It took Dean a few seconds to catch up and when he did, his heart started pounding with excitement. The words were out of his mouth so fast, he could hear the eagerness in his voice. "Yes. I'm good to go." 

Cas chuckled. "Take a deep breath then answer again." 

Dean did as he was told, then responded more calmly. "I was tested a month after my last sexual partner. All tests were normal. I'm clean." 

"No objections to what I want?" Cas sounded confident, but there was a hint of worry. 

"I want it, too." Dean had never had sex without a condom before. He'd never had a partner he trusted enough. But Cas was different... Cas was...  _everything_. He kept his eyes closed, but tilted his head toward the direction of Cas' breaths. "I trust you, Cas." 

There was a soft inhale of breath by his ear, then all bets were off. With the efficiency of a well-trained military doctor, Cas unfastened the front of Dean's ACU top and pulled the sides apart, leaving them to flap at his sides. His t-shirt was tugged out of his pants and rucked up to his armpits. In his current position, it wouldn't stay put, so with a frustrated growl, Cas yanked the front up to rest behind Dean's neck, leaving his chest bare under the open uniform. One of the Velcro tabs brushed against his nipple and Dean gasped at the intense sensation. Cas definitely noticed because the next thing Dean felt was both nipples being pinched. He moaned...  _loudly_... and bucked his hips seeking friction that wasn't there. He needed...

"Cas... please," Dean croaked. 

"Shh... I've got you," Cas whispered as he raked his nails down Dean's chest and abs. He cried out and was silenced by the hands undoing his belt and uniform pants. Cas pushed them down around Dean's thighs, then stepped away, leaving Dean feeling cool air on his exposed skin. He heard a rustling as Cas opened his own pants, then inhaled sharply as he realized what Cas was doing. He was jerking off to the sight of Dean on display for him. Dean arched his back and jutted his ass out more, knowing the picture he made. Cas' motions abruptly stopped and Dean envisioned him clutching his cock trying not to come. He bit his lip at the image and spread his feet a little wider in invitation. He heard the snap of the cap and waited for the press of Cas' fingers. 

No such luck... Instead of pushing inside, Cas ran slick fingers up and down the crack of Dean's ass and massaged lightly just behind his balls. Then he snaked his hand around and closed it over Dean's shaft, stroking him in a loose grasp that left him wanting more. Dean let out a frustrated sound that only seemed to amuse Cas as he let out yet another infuriating chuckle. Dean, fully aware of his surroundings without needing his eyes, kicked his boot out and nudged Cas' foot in annoyance. He regretted it immediately when Cas pulled away, then abruptly changed his mind when Cas grabbed his hair in his other hand, turned Dean's face to the side, and slammed him into the wall. Their bodies were pressed together, shoulders to feet, and Dean's breaths were coming in harsh pants.  _That's more like it._

Cas bit the back of Dean's neck, then rumbled in his ear. "I was planning on sucking your cock, but since you failed to follow my orders, that's off the table." Dean was about to open his mouth to make a smart-ass comment when he felt Cas press one finger into him without hesitation. All the air rushed from Dean's lungs as Cas moved inside him, stretching the edge of his tight opening. Just as he relaxed, Cas pushed in another. The initial burn made Dean inhale sharply and the slick sounds of Cas' hand moving against him was driving him insane.  _"_ _You_ _l_ _ove_ _this_... don't you?" Cas' rough tone in his ear made him moan with need... with a visceral  _want_. Not wanting to risk speaking without permission, Dean simply nodded, desperate to please. He gasped when Cas added a third, making it abundantly clear that Cas was no longer the patient captain giving orders. This was a man giving into his base instinct to take... to own... to claim. And Dean was one hundred percent on board. 

Cas retracted his fingers and Dean whined at the empty feeling. A surprisingly gentle hand caressed his stomach, then came to rest on his chest just over his heart. The other gripped his hip and guided him back into a better position. Then the hands were gone and there was a wet sound behind him, which he assumed was Cas slicking himself. Then there was silence... he heard nothing, felt nothing... until the blunt push of Cas' cock against his hole. He slid all the way in and Dean whimpered at the intrusion. It wasn't painful exactly... just incredibly intense. There was no barrier between them and he could feel every nerve ending sing as Cas penetrated him. His legs started to shake and Cas returned his hand to Dean's chest. Dean calmed down and felt himself relax. "I'm good." 

That seemed to be all Cas was waiting for because in the next instant, Cas's hand was holding Dean's head against the wall and holding Dean's hip in a vice grip as he began thrusting into Dean without mercy. Dean's hands were still in the same position, but his nails began scraping the wall at the sensation of Cas fucking into him over and over and over again. Dean's uniform top started getting in the way and Cas grabbed the sides in tight fists and used it as leverage to pull Dean back with every thrust of his cock. Their combat boots bumped together as Dean's legs began to falter. Cas adjusted his stance and moved Dean forward until the entire length of his body was flush with the wall. He gasped at the cold feeling of the drywall against his aching cock.

Cas was leaning against every inch of Dean, his hands resting over Dean's, his mouth trailing kisses over his neck, jaw, and face. He seemed to only just notice that Dean still had his eyes closed and hummed his approval. "Open your eyes, Dean." 

Dean shivered at the sound of Cas' voice and his heart clenched in his chest when he looked to the side and took in the sight of Cas' face. The look of pure adoration in those blue eyes... "Cas, I..." Dean couldn't finish. 

"I know, love. I know." Cas pressed warm lips to Dean's mouth, then began pushing into him in long, deep thrusts that Dean could feel in his core. The sound of their combined panting and unrestrained grunts and groans filled the room. All that existed was the two of them in this moment, the rest of the world be damned. Cas' rhythm faltered and Dean felt Cas' hand, still slick with lube, close around his shaft. He'd been on the edge too long and it only took a few brisk strokes. His muscles contracted and he came with a sharp cry, his release dripping down the wall and landing on the floor between his boots. Cas stroked him through it, then gripped Deans' hips and plunged into him a few more times before his own orgasm hit. He called out Dean's name and tensed. Dean felt each and every pulse as Cas filled him with cum. Cas was shaking against his back and Dean finally moved his hands to close them around Cas' which were still resting on his hips. The connection was enough to settle Cas and they breathed in sync until they both calmed down. Cas' cock was softening and he eased it out of Dean, but remained plastered against his back. 

The sensation of cum running down his thighs was strange, but Dean found it both erotic and intimate... something only the two of them shared. Dean was the first to speak.

"Whoa... That was... intense." He felt Cas' grasp tighten on his hand.

"Was that okay?" Cas sounded nervous.

"Hell yeah, it was. Better than okay... it was fucking incredible. We are so doing that again." Dean smiled at Cas' relieved sigh, then grimaced at the cooling mess between them. "Shower?

"Shower," Cas agreed. They pulled their pants up enough to be able to walk to the bathroom, then Cas turned on the water so it could heat while they undressed. When they were both naked, they climbed into the shower and took turns cleaning each other. Dean loved the feeling of Cas washing his hair and leaned into the touch when Cas laid an open-mouthed kiss on his neck. "Bleah..." 

"What the hell was that?" Dean laughed as Cas kept spitting, his face screwed up and pinched. "You don't like how I taste all of a sudden?"

"You, yes. Shampoo, not so much. Come here, let me rinse you." 

After their shower, they dried each other off and traded kisses on still-damp skin. Not bothering with clothes, they crawled in bed, their bodies entwined and eyes glowing in the way only those who feel truly loved can manage. Cas reached out and ran his fingers through Dean's hair.

"Marry me." 

It was said without any hint of doubt or uncertainty... almost like it didn't even occur to Cas to make it a question... like he knew what the answer would be. Dean understood exactly what that felt like because he knew in the deepest parts of his soul that he and Cas belonged to each other. He didn't believe in destiny or all that bullshit about fate... but he did believe in Cas and the love they shared. He reached out and took Cas by the hand. 

"Yes."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> That's all folks. Hope you enjoyed this one. I sit now, staring at my screen wondering which story to write next. 
> 
> A water buffalo is a large container that holds potable water for troops. It's also a large animal, but in this instance, Cas and Dean aren't standing around an animal.

**Author's Note:**

> Here is a glossary of some of the military terms we used:
> 
> Fly-boy – A somewhat derogatory term for Air Force personnel by other branches of the military  
> CO – Commanding Officer  
> Enlisted – Any military personnel that are not commissioned officers. Also known as NCOs (non-commissioned officers)  
> Latrine – Toilets  
> ACUs – Army Combat Uniform  
> IOTV – Military body armor  
> NCOIC – Non-commissioned Officer In Charge (The highest ranking NCO in a unit)  
> Click - .062 miles or one kilometer  
> Pashto – The language spoken in Afghanistan, Pakistan and Iran.  
> Article 15 - If a military member gets into trouble for a minor offense and it does not require a judicial hearing, Article 15 allows for the commanding officer to decide the innocence or guilt and administer the punishment to the offender if necessary.  Also known as Non-Judicial Punishment (NJP), the Article 15 hearing allows for the immediate chain of command to handle "in house" the lesser offenses that do not require a trial. An Article 15 goes into the personnel’s permanent record.  
> Mess Hall – A cafeteria where military personnel eat.  
> 
> If you have any questions, please ask.


End file.
